


A Sexual Exploration of Elvish Relations

by sparklight



Category: Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Bondage, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, F/M, Femdom, Fluff and Smut, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 19:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 18
Words: 29,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21361396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/pseuds/sparklight
Summary: This is where most of my Kinktober attention went; the sexual escapades of a drow and light elf, having both a lot of fun and a slightly less fun in the course of their relationship, plus a couple AUs and some guest stars.
Relationships: Original Drow Character/Original Elf Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'll note which 'verse and the specific kinks for each ficlet in every chapter, because I often combined prompts for these ficlets, and these will thus not be posted chronologically - especially so since I'll be putting some ficlets together in the same chapter, because they are interconnecting, regardless of whether they happened on consecutive days or not.  
This: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20492990 is the list I was using!
> 
> The characters are mine (Solarion, Nalethe) and a friend's (Rook, Elerra), and I was happy to be able to post this up. :D
> 
> ***  
The first chapter follows the main verse (quite a bit later on in the timeline, otherwise knows as "Rook's past catches up to him", featuring his mistress), and the prompts/kinks are: Day 1 – threesome/moresome + Day 25 - hypnotism

There's so much wrong with the situation, Solarion honestly doesn't know where to start. Maybe it doesn't really matter; things have been wrong for more than a week by now, a desperate, crawling sensation of vertigo and fear. And arousal. Despite everything, he's achingly hard. He can't _think_ like this. Not with Rook's mouth on him, bobbing up and down in full, generous strokes and swallowing him to the root every time, with not a hint of discomfort. The soft, plush press of Rook's lips around him is as distracting as always, even without the situation being what it is. Not with the plug in his ass, the girth of it definitely wider than Rook is, and every tiny flex of muscle or shift he can do reminds him it's there, solid and unyielding and _constantly pressing against that one spot_. Rook presses down, probably unintentionally, swallowing even more around him and grinding the plug in place with his fingers, and Solarion gasps, thrusting up reflexively. The movement is awkward, half-completed at best, pulling a burn from his muscles and distracting him again.

Because he's pinned down not just by Rook draped over his thighs, but his lower legs folded back on themselves and tied to his thighs, and his arms are above his head, an intricate spider's web of ropes keeping them there.

That would be fine, Solarion thinks. Normally, it would probably be more than fine, but right now---

Rook jerks forward, a strangled noise of muffled pleasure around him which shoots pure sensation down through Solarion's erection and he groans as well, hips twitching up and not helping Rook's situation at all. Opening his eyes only reluctantly, Solarion meets hazy bright blue eyes not quite staring up at him. He can't tell whether it's because Rook's concentrating and distracted by his own pleasure, or because---

Or because Elerra is controlling him again.

She's done that, at least once since that first time, and it hasn't become any less terrifying, because every time it happens he's not quite convinced Rook actually will recover from it.

"Ro---ohh." Moaning as fingers press against the base of the plug and Rook slides down him again, teeth teasing along him, Solarion feels like he flushes all the way down to his navel. Lifting his eyes from Rook's hazy, unfocused eyes, he meets red, red, _red_, intent and predatory, where Elerra is behind Rook, her long legs folded on each side of him and her long, slim hands gripping slimmer hips. Every time she shifts back or forward for a thrust in or slide out, there's a flash of magic, red like her eyes, down where Solarion knows her strap on is attached. He has no idea what it does (she hasn't used _that one_ on him - yet - has mostly not touched him directly at all, but what there has been... has been more than enough), but it's clearly doing _something_.

"What now? You ought to show some appreciation for Ristel's efforts!" She laughs at him, thrusting forward hard, which causes Rook to bounce forward in turn and practically choke on him, though there's no obvious struggle aside from Rook's throat flexing around him and Solarion (doesn't want to admit that that's kind of hot) _cannot tell_ if he's just used to it or if it's because she--- The plug is rotated, pulled out slightly against the strained clutch of his muscles, then let go to slide in again. Solarion shudders like he's been hit, the quiet moan voiceless in the back of his throat.

He _can't think like this_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Main verse, in the middle of a very lavish celebration; Rook decides to have some... almost... private fun.
> 
> The kinks are: Day 3 - oral sex + public/semi-public sex

Rook knows Solarion hadn't shown him where the hidden door to one of the palace's secret corridors were in the ballroom for him to use it for _this_, but... it was right there. He _had to_. It's not as if Solarion is protesting, aside from that appalled, flustered hiss of 'Rook!' when Rook had opened his trousers up. He's pressed against the wall, one hand on the doorjamb as if to forestall anyone trying to open the door from the outside and he's got his other hand closed into a fist, jammed into his mouth. His knuckles are red-and-white in the faint glow of magical lighting from above.

As captivating as that flash of knuckle between teeth and small, rosebud lips is, more important is what's right in front of him. Solarion's erection, more delicately pink than desperate red, somehow (it's fitting, though, and of course his little rabbit would manage to make that look _pretty_), is as slim as the rest of him. It's perfect, thanks ever so much. Sliding back down the cock, slowly, just in time to turn Solarion's hissed caution into a muffled moan, Rook smirks around the base of it and swallows. This is definitely making this celebration a lot more interesting, and he might be able to stay the rest of the evening without feeling like he's going to blow a gasket.

*

Solarion can swear the music heard through the door sounds like he's standing right next to the orchestra, instead of being across the whole ballroom from where the musicians are. He knows it's his nerves, but it doesn't mate it any less worrying. He's also just as aware of the crowd on the other side of the door - not thin, really, but it sounds like it, right now - as he's aware of his heartbeat. Loud and insistent, right up in his throat. Admittedly, that might be just as much because of _Rook_, his hands less on his hips and more on his _ass_, lips shiny not from the sloppy kissing that'd happened right after he'd closed the door behind them, but rather from spit and precome. They're so _soft_, and even when stretched out around him as Rook slides down the side of his dick with teasing leisure before he retraces his path up along the other side, they're a distracting plushness against the throbbing sensitivity of his erection.

Is it wrong to feel like Rook was clearly _made_ to do what he's currently doing, when he clearly likes it, too? Solarion couldn't say, but that might have just as much to do with awkward uncertainty as with his distraction, gasping as Rook delicately licks at the head and then swallows him down.

"_Rook_\---!" Quiet. He has to be _quiet_, or else someone is surely going to check on them. He _knows_ they didn't duck in here unnoticed, and he's going to _die_ if someone actually gets concerned enough to make sure they're all right. Or to call them out because they've been hiding in here too long. Rook squeezes his ass, swallows heavily around him, tongue pressed against the underside, and starts to draw back. Solarion muffles his choked gasp against the palm he's desperately pressing against his mouth as his cock twitches, Rook teases teeth around him, and he can no longer hold back.

Why couldn't Rook have waited until _after_?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Main verse, set earlier than the scene in the first chapter; again, Rook's past catches up to him, and his (former) mistress deals with that.
> 
> The kinks for each of these connected ficlets are: Day 4 – femdom + Day 1 - power difference/authority, Day 9 - cock cage, Day 14 - pegging + Day 27 - electricity

She circles her pet slowly. Watches his back go stiff as she slinks around his back. He doesn't turn with her, but he's rigid like death with the awareness of where she is even if he can't see her. The tips of his ears are trembling, and very tempting, but they can be left for later. When she does reach out, she lays her hands on his shoulders (he's far too dressed; for what she has in mind, for his proper purpose and position, and as a male drow, so she'll remedy that), squeezing the narrow strength of them as he twitches, quickly stilling again. So controlled! Chuckling, she slides her hands down clothed arms and slits the ropes around his wrists open, and Ristel lets his hands drop to his sides. Doesn't rub his wrists, like he surely wants to do.

She caresses up his arms again, shameless in enjoying the corded strength hidden under the fabric of a tunic, fine and embroidered in a style no drow should be wearing. Elerra leans in, lips just barely brushing the delicate shell of Ristel's ear, feels him shudder with her breath tickling it.   
"Strip."

A beat, in which she can feel his muscles flex, torn between stiffening into frozen denial and giving in to the weight of that single word.

"No."

She has to give it to him; she can barely hear the tremble underneath the stubborn refusal, the fear and knowledge that her pet is making things worse for himself. She smiles, and reaches for the glyphs scattered down his back. Not the ones to inflict pain, which he might have expected. No, the other ones.

"_Strip_, pet," Elerra says, magic and command weaving together into wine, heavy on her tongue, heavier on Ristel. His breath shudders in his chest, sticks, breathing going high and panicked, but he's moving now. There's no other choice, after all, though as Elerra comes to stand in front of him, folded hand on her chin and the other arm folded under her elbow, propping her chin up, she is far more looking forward to when he's bending because he remembers his place, as enjoyable as it is to _make him_ obey. In the end he will obey because he knows there's nothing to do _but_ obey. 

For now, though, this is enough. The movements lack finesse and grace, are jerky and clumsy, but he unlaces the tunic the rest of the way, gets the belt off. Drops it, and the tunic follows, discarded like the garbage it is, and if he's watching it, his pretty blue eyes so wide it looks like it ought to hurt before he remembers himself and narrows them, staring at the floor instead, all the better. The boots are next; good, sturdy boots with decorative tooling up the sides, but if she would have her pet wear boots, they would not look like _that_. He's not going to be wearing either these or any other sort of footwear for the foreseeable future, however.

Somehow, his hands pause at his waist, hesitating over the waistband of his pants. She's impressed, truly. The smile she gives him is nothing but killing intent when he briefly meets her eyes, and the pants and smallclothes follow the rest of his clothes quickly after that. They slide down sleekly muscled thighs to reveal his cock, as large (perhaps more than, her memory has clearly been failing her) as she remembers, soft and so very vulnerable despite its size - and it twitches as she watches. She does not laugh, but her smile grows more teeth.

Finally, the foolish male is naked, decorated by nothing but the scars on his back, the piercings in his ears, and the gold-and-diamond drop piercings in his nipples. Those will all go, too, but it can wait; she has one thing to settle before they proceed. Elerra turns, leaving Ristel standing in the middle of the floor of her throne room, not explicitly telling him not to move, knowing he won't. Where is he supposed to go?

Fetching the delicate contraption made up of twisting swirls of metal, she turns around with it clearly presented in one hand. Her pet's eyes go wide, the sullen anger covering his fear falling away for a second.

"Mist---"

"Quiet," she snaps, and while she uses no magic, he snaps his mouth closed, hands flexing by his sides, "and stand still. Spread your legs a little."

_There_ she uses magic, and so he has no choice but to follow her directions while still managing to sway back from her as she approaches. So very, very stubborn, and she'll remind him why he ought not be, but she's pleased enough to find his cock remembers her well, hardening slightly under light fingers. A pity. He will not be using this for a while.

The cage goes on easily, maybe a shade too small - _good_ \- and traps one of Ristel's finest features in a web of sturdy, slim bars, twisting around and over themselves, and, honestly, only drawing the eye even more to the large organ inside. It looks very fetching. Pleased, Elerra strokes her fingers over it, once, twice, then straightens up and marches over to her throne, sitting down and pulling her skirts up.

"Before we _really_ start, I think you should begin to apologize for your absolutely _atrocious_ behaviour last we saw each other, Ristel."

She uses his name; she does not use magic. There's only the force of her will in her voice, and there's a fine, fine tremble that goes through him and he closes his eyes briefly. Swallows heavily and then creeps forward, reluctance in every step and yet graceful as he sinks to his knees between her legs. There's the faintest flush of purple to his cheeks, despite the resentment clear to see.

Elerra smiles down at her pet, and does not worry about his teeth as he leans in. She knows he won't use them.

### Day 9 - cock cage

Three days.

At least Rook thought it'd been three days, but it was getting hard to keep track, and the livid pain slowly easing off the nerves in his back wasn't helping. Fingertips brushed over his back, cool in contrast to hot, overworked skin, soft against the twisting ropes of spider web-shaped scars Elerra was following. Rook shuddered, then forced himself still, though his nerves were getting confused, his body responding shamefully eagerly to the switch from pain to... if not pleasure, then something more pleasant, at the very least. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead, cheeks, back of his neck, and slid with every involuntary shift over his shoulders. _Shoulders_, not shoulder. Rook hadn't repeated the mistake of braiding his hair up on one side after the first day, not after the way Elerra had reacted. She'd made him undo the braid after, and he flexed his fingers as if he could still feel the echo of ghostly pain from the punishment.

It was such a tiny, tiny thing. It should be insignificant, since he'd shorn his hair short after escaping, but it wasn't short now. Just loose. Loose and _nothing_. Idly, he wondered if finding a way to cut it off, to spite her that way, would be enough to provoke rage enough she'd tire of punishment and go for _killing_. Maybe. It might on the other hand not be enough, and Rook was reluctant to get rid of his hair on the off-chance it'd work. If it didn't, he'd have to live with it until it grew out as well as the punishment.

"Resisting still, are we?" She sounded amused, now kneeling behind him on the bed, and Rook could honestly say he didn't know what she was after. He'd been sure they would have killed him as soon as possible, first. He'd been sure _she_ would kill him as soon as she was done with her punishment, but she hadn't - _wasn't_. She wasn't even supposed to be alive! Yet here she was, and everything was familiar enough Rook sometimes thought he'd end up thinking he hadn't ever left. His hair was, maybe amusingly, a reminder he had. He certainly hadn't had hair only down to his shoulders before...

Well.

_Before_.

"So _stubborn_, pet." The fingers slid off his back, down his side, _under_, and while Rook couldn't actually feel the way she was mapping out the silvery vines trapping his cock, for she made sure not to dip into the irregular gaps between the winding bars of the cage, he knew that's what she was doing. Mostly because he seemed to have gained a third sense when it came to his cock. It was firmly out of reach aside from awkward, twitching brushes by fingertips barely able to reach inside the bars, and she hadn't deigned to let him take it off since she put it on him days (he was sure it _was_ days) ago now. Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad if pain was all she insisted on - pain he surely _deserved_, in some way.

"How long can you deal with this?" Calculation, _pride_, maybe some annoyance. It was the pride that hit hardest.

"As long as I have to," he hissed, if only because he had a huge, stupid mouth and while three days had started to make him more cautious, he resented the necessity, the reminder of what he'd _very decidedly left behind_. It was as much reflexive as it was calculated, and Elerra... laughed. Laughed instead of getting angry, of going back to pain, or even tiring of all this and ending it. Jostled the cock cage instead and he couldn't hold back a groan, for three days and pain _hadn't_ been all she'd been giving him. It was confusing his body, and it was _torture_ to his cock. He felt like he'd been nursing an erection that couldn't happen thanks to the deceptively gentle constriction for maybe more than a day, now.

No, definitely more than a day, and that was just underscored when she let go, touch feathering up his thigh, and dipped between his ass cheeks. His cock twitched, unable not to, and equally unable to actually do anything but press against the cool metal winding around it, as if insistently not giving up on trying to stiffen would change the circumstances.

When her fingers pressed inside, slick this time and his muscles still liquid hot and tired from the pain, Rook slumped down on his front, buried his hands in his hair, and felt deeply ashamed of the fact that the would-be erection refused to go away.

### Day 14 - pegging + Day 27 - electricity

The wiggling slide of long, graceful fingers, tipped by nails long enough it makes the probing in such a sensitive place into something _almost_ uncomfortable, doesn't last long enough to really make Rook truly relax, if he even could right now. It's long enough to coat his insides, and then Elerra pulls her fingers out.

What happens next is both what he expected, and something he _should_ have expected, but didn't.

The blunt head of the strap on _is_ expected, but there's a prickling tension where the smooth obsidian is pressed against his entrance. Rook has half a second of sucking his breath in, memory and realization twining together into one, and then Elerra seats herself in one, determined thrust. Sparks follow the frictionless slide of volcanic glass, rampaging through a place too sensitive to have something like _that_ applied to it. Muscles jerk into tight convulsions while at the same time they can't remain locked into place, shuddering with trembling indecision between one and the other. His spine is fire.

None of it is, exactly, pain.

It's also not _not_ pain, for it's impossible to unwind what the sensation turning previously untouched muscles into quivering mush _is_.

Rook's aware he's making some sort of noise, open and animal-like while he's practically limbless where he's splayed out on the bed, arched up against where Elerra's pressed deeply inside of him. His fingers are twitching, and it's the tiny jerks on his scalp that allow him to work up actual saliva and swallow, to silence himself. His vision wavers, steadies, and Rook tries to _not_ give her the satisfaction of any more of his voice, but the sensation doesn't stop.

He wants to crawl away from it, but even if his muscles would obey at the moment, there's a large, slender hand planted at the small of his back, keeping him in place, and more than that; he knows better. Well, maybe trying to escape might anger her enough, but Rook doesn't trust his mind at the moment to give him an accurate assessment of what would be _enough_. It's better to endure this, as he has before.

If she wills it---

Elerra moves, then, and all his hard-won breath is stolen from him.

The strap on is large, though not one of the largest in her possession, at least as far as he knows (maybe she's expanded her selection of toys since, what does he know when she _should be dead_), but it's maddeningly smooth, even if both it and his insides weren't slick. There's just no purchase. He's forced open around it wide enough there would be strain to feel if it wasn't so frictionless, but all he can devote attention to is the electricity making him convulse around it, far tighter at every contraction than he would be able to manage alone, and he _can't stop twitching_.

"Maybe this will remind you of your place, pet," Elerra says, voice like liquid silk and red-hot, molten darkness, and where she'd been slow drawing out, the whole way out, she's not so kind going in. Or when she draws back again, for that matter. There's seconds of quivering stillness, where Rook is left hanging in a fuzzy place of overworked nothing between every thrust, and then he's breached again, split open on more than just the dildo alone while convulsing muscles tries to clamp down around the glass-slick obsidian and finding no purchase.

She's hitting his prostrate, too, now, and where before there was just a tangle of too much sensation to pick out pain or pleasure or anything at all, now the aching strain of his muscles are juxtaposed against every charged thrust against that spot. It's worse, even if he hadn't thought it possible, for even when she eases away from that spot, the charge lingers, heating him from within.

She doesn't even need to do that much, but she is.

Because it pleases her.

Why?

What is the _point_?

The point is that he left, because she wants it, because he deserves whatever Mistress w---

No.

No, not _yet_, he may give her submission until he can find a way to provoke her into killing him, but he will not _mean it_ in the privacy of his mind. Not when he knows what it means to _choose_.

Choose to kill what he'd grown up knowing had to be obeyed. Choose where to go, what to do, _who_ he wants to do it with. Choose to go into danger instead of thinking that's what he has to do, because that's just how it is. Choose it for an earnest smile, interesting mind and the prettiest fucking boy he'd ever seen, despite that it was a light elf.

Solarion.

The figure in his mind's eye has almost solidified when his mis---- she, thrusts in again, sparks lighting his nerves and leaving Rook gasping into the spidersilk covers. Good. He can't think about that, right now. Those thoughts are to be saved for when he's alone, despite that that leaves him with nothing between himself and Elerra's presence, between him and sensations he can't differentiate between, can't do anything but feel.

It has to be this way. Rook's more afraid of her somehow finding those thoughts and memories if he thinks about them in her presence and excising them than he is of facing her alone. 

That doesn't change the fact that his head is spinning, his skin so sensitive the bare shift of air seems like a deliberate, sweet caress against the static charge snapping against him from the covers. Doesn't change that his cock is throbbing against heated metal, aching with an erection that can't fully form, and he can't keep his thoughts straight.

"Ah, ah---" 

She plows into him again, pressed fully against his prostrate and stays there, grinding her hips into him. His quivering muscles work against the slickly smooth glass inside, and Rook's orgasm is a dry shaking, completely unsatisfying as a bare few dribbles spill from his aching, mostly soft cock and not easing the suppressed erection in the least. It's like he hasn't come at all.

She fucks into him, into, through, and past his orgasm, electricity teasing his insides, and Rook can only shake around the large dildo. The cage is a warm, charged pressure against sensitive skin, matching the overworked heat inside of him that can do nothing _but_ respond to the stimulation, the solid weight continually splitting him open until it isn't.

"Wh... uh?" Blinking unseeing against soft, dark fabric, Rook chokes on his breath when a slap on his ass rocks through him, making his trapped cock bounce against its confines. Even if he could resist as he's rolled over, he doesn't, and he stares up into glowing red eyes, quickly replaced by delicate, slick folds. He can, just, tilt his head to avoid being smothered, and despite his trembling, he buries his tongue in her quickly enough.

Whatever Mistress asks for, of course.

(Later, when Rook's alone and can process everything, he'll be both furious, ashamed and afraid that he'd given in there. Even later than that, it'll happen again and stick, at least for a little while.)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is (just barely) an AU of the regular verse, basically the "Solarion is the escort quest/contracts a party for a task he has", so Rook and Solarion's meeting is (very) different from the main verse. They are very near their goal, and guards are let down...
> 
> Kinks for this chapter is: Day 5 - tentacles + Day 26 - noncon

They'd reached the outskirts of the ruined city that was their general destination, and everybody had probably relaxed a bit more than was quite healthy. With the goal so close now, who could really fault them?

Well... Solarion would definitely fault the rest, but most specifically _Rook_, when the vines tangling over the grassy ground suddenly lashed into movement. They snatched only him and the tiefling cleric, but why that was, he wasn't particularly eager to think about _right then_. Not with vines like tentacles winding around his limbs with quite more familiarity than was entirely necessary just for restraint. Solarion also, who might have yelped when he'd been grabbed but been silent while people below started yelling and arguing and, finally, fighting, gasped when one tendril slid with clingy loving attention down along the crease between his thigh and torso, and up under his balls.

Yanking on his arms only got them pulled far out far to the sides, kicking merely got him one leg folded in against itself and the other yanked out wide. There were vines teasing around the cuffs of his jacket, now, and the shirt cuffs underneath weren't voluminous enough to either offer resistance _or_ confounding obstruction. They slid in, wound around his wrists and stroked over the thin skin covering his pulse, and Solarion, though he had no leverage or much freedom any more to do more than wriggle, still tried to shy away from the touch. As if in response, the vine between his legs shifted, stroking against his balls as it moved up along the cleft of his ass and he couldn't help the disgusted, alarmed shudder. What when it found the waistband of his pants? The thick sash might help, but it could doubtfully offer resistance for long.

Forcing himself to breathe despite the shakiness of his chest, the panicked thunder of his heart, Solarion did his best to ignore the sliding progress of vines now dipping into his collar, gently like a lover around his throat and down over his chest, and looked around instead. Anything to distract while he pressed his lips closed against the curious prodding of a little tendril that tasted of spicy sap even just from brushing against his lips.

Sweetest was bent nearly in two, held higher in the air than he was and upside down, her skirt around her waist and the tendrils trying to find a way past her hose - so far, they hadn't managed to rip anything. Solarion was uncertain whether the nearly puce colour of her face was from being held upside down and the blood rushing down to her head or from distraught embarrassment of her position and the situation. She was, even if she was unable to see what she was doing, managing to repeatedly whack some of the vines and keep them below her thighs, away from anything too sensitive. He could admit he was jealous, when all he could do was try to twist away from the touch, vines now having found its way both around the outline of his cock as well as to the edges of his sash, and he just hoped it was tied firmly enough.

Swallowing heavily, he looked _down_ instead of at either himself or Sweetest, spotting Zara up on a boulder, firing arrows with impressive alacrity, and Nalethe working together with the two humans. That left---

The clump of vines holding him shuddered and jerked, dropping him down almost a meter before they caught him again and Solarion yelped, then cursed silently, ignoring the high edge of panic accompanying the words in his head as the vine that'd practically been massaging his lips in an attempt at getting inside shoved in until it hit the back of his throat. Retching, he tried to find what had caused the upset, and spotted Rook darting away from the center of the plant. He looked up, and Solarion was at least a little mollified to see the apologetic grimace twisting the lower part of his face (when had he gotten good enough to read Rook's expressions past the mask?) before it was wiped away for something that looked more like grim fury. Why he was so angry, Solarion didn't know. Wasn't like _he_ was up here with him and Sweetest!

Solarion didn't care about why, honestly, as the plant shuddered again, vines whipping around in aimless, jerky fury, and like this he was going to _vomit_ if it kept up too long. Behind and above him, Sweetest wailed in shrieking protest for the way they were being 'rescued', then the noise abruptly got muffled and Solarion shuddered in sympathy. There wasn't enough water or wine in the world to wash out the taste of resiny, spicy sap, and all he wanted was to get down. _Before_ the vines could get any further!

He almost didn't get his wish.

One thin one managed to tease between his jacket and the sash and Solarion cringed, no longer finding the obscene sliding of the vine in his mouth the most critically important thing to pay attention to, but before he could do... well, nothing at all except try to come to grips with what was probably going to happen, the plant jerked again, the smell of burning green rose up, and both he and Sweetest were dropped.

Nalethe caught him, of course, and out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the humans catching Sweetest, though he was quick to hand off the clinging, wailing tiefling to Zara, who was more accepting of dealing with Sweetest's distress. Solarion allowed himself one shaking moment of staying in Nalethe's arms, then relaxed and was let down - he was glad for the hand that caught his arm to steady him when his knees briefly didn't carry his weight, though.

"Well, if everybody could have been _an adult_ 'bout their lives, this wouldn't have happened, you realize?"

Solarion wasn't in the mood to even try to figure out which of the two humans who had spoken, and ignored the comment in favour of trying to put himself as much to rights as he could. As he shifted his shoulders, straightened his jacket and sash, he was strangely aware of Rook off to the side, standing, probably unintentionally, between both him and Sweetest and the burning plant.

"W-what do you mean?" Sweetest sniffled, scrubbing her face as she straightened up from where she'd been hiding her face against Zara's shoulder.

"Weell... they're virgin tra---"

"No!" Sweetest shrieked, loud enough all elves as well as the half-elf present flinched, and then she stomped away, puce in the face again, "I'm not listening to this!"

Solarion sighed and finally looked up, caught by the mask turning his way as Rook turned away from the humans, now trying to (teasingly) placate Sweetest and call her back. The dark elf cocked his head.

"You're not offended."

A statement, and Solarion rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his hair. Had to ignore the way it was still trembling, just a little.

"What is there to be ashamed of? This... trip, interrupted my education before we could get that far. Not that it matters," he said tightly, tugging on his cuffs again, "let's find a place deeper in the ruins to make camp."

He was not sleeping anywhere _near_ that thing, even with it burned to a crisp. There could be others.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Main verse again, despite what it looks like. Just the boys amusing themselves with some roleplay, and skirting around the contentious relations between their races. This is two interconnected ficlets.
> 
> Kinks here are: Day 6 - roleplay, Day 20 - face fucking/deepthroat + Day 19 - hair pulling

Slamming the door to the closet shut behind him, Solarion strides across the floor with the same sort of straight-backed dignity he would employ in the throne room, during a ball or other official function, despite that these are his rooms, and there's no one else in here besides Rook. It makes him feel a little ridiculous, but it's... fun, too, and the knowledge of what they're doing is sitting like sparkling champagne in the back of his head, in his veins, bubbles and heat pooling in his crotch. Not an erection - yet.

"You really ought to have planned this better," he announces, drawing on every lesson he's had and his voice fills his bedroom with satisfying weight, matching the drag of the sash over the floor, the stiff lines of silver embroidery down his sleeves, front, sides of his thighs. He rounds Rook to stare down his nose at him, chin held high, but it's a near thing that he blushes, pleased, with the way Rook's eyes briefly widen. They quickly narrow again, though in dark-eyed pleasure instead of the flat scowl he'd been wearing. That expression quickly returns even if he can't quite shake the low-lidded appreciation from his pale blue eyes.

It's nice to know the effort he went through was worth it; Solarion hasn't worn this outfit in years, and it's actually a little tight around the shoulders and _definitely_ straining just a shade too much to be entirely decent around his back, but it's one he's worn several times to actual functions, and he put on the jewellery to match. Everything is silver and white and silver-on-white, aside from the dark blue of the sash, creating a slash of colour cutting diagonally over his torso and trailing down to the floor. He could really have walked right out of here and out into the throne room and he'd fit right in, but, again... there's only one set of eyes here to see.

Rook, in contrast, is wearing what Solarion assumes must be an old set of travelling gear. One he probably saved only for emergencies, for he hasn't ever seen Rook wear something old enough to need to be mended, as both this tunic and pants have been, and repeatedly. Kind of ruining all that work to keep his clothes whole, Rook has added a couple new rips to the tunic, authentic enough there's dark red scratches over the slash of delicate inky skin visible past ripped fabric.

It's surprising how much that affects him, but maybe it's just because it lends more weight to the illusion they're creating. Somehow, Solarion keeps from shifting on his feet, though it's easier to deal with the growing arousal when there's no one to see, no stakes in the necessity of pretending he's not turned on (it has absolutely happened at very inappropriate and public moments, and every one of them were deeply mortifying, even when no one had known).

Rook chooses to spit out his reply in Drow, sneering enough the cut of his tone almost sounds genuine. Only the lingering heat in his gaze reveals things aren't what they seem.

"We suppose one can't expect better of a _drow_," Solarion continues as if Rook hadn't said anything at all, "trying to assassinate a member of the imperial family _right in the palace_." He doesn't bother with a sneer, just layers incredulous exasperation on until Rook has to press his lips together, managing to turn it into surprisingly thin-lipped offense instead of laughing at Solarion's haughtiness. Opens his mouth, but Solarion doesn't give him the chance to say anything at all; he snaps a hand out, tangling it in the artfully mussed spill of silvery-white framing the right side of Rook's face and _yanks_.

Harder than he usually would, and he can feel his face heat up a little from the way Rook's pupils dilate and how he - just - catches the way his mouth drops open on a silent gasp and wordlessly snarls instead.

"Uncouth," Solarion says mildly, arching an eyebrow and, with another tug, gentler this time, lets go. A little reluctantly, because the mussing isn't authentic enough to tangle Rook's hair enough it isn't just as silky as always, then turns and struts over to the chair they pulled out into the middle of the room. This, too, makes him feel a little ridiculous, but the heated weight of Rook's gaze following him eases the embarrassment and puts an extra swing to his step; this jacket, compared to many of his other ones, has no tails, and while the sash hangs low enough it's partially obscuring his ass, it doesn't do so _entirely_, and Rook is paying enough attention Solarion can feel his cock twitch. Making sure he's not smiling like an idiot when he turns to sit down, he makes as much of a show of it as he can, such as he would never do normally. He chooses to mimic Erenion from memory in the way he sweeps the tail end of the sash aside and sits back, hooking one leg over the other and looks Rook up and down, _slowly_.

The pants he wears are loose, but the tunic, even if it's long enough to fall to mid-thigh, can't hide the way Rook is unable to pretend he's not interested in what's going on, and Solarion quickly moves on. If he stares too long, as much as he likes the hidden promise underneath the clothing, he's going to get flustered and ruin the tension. Rook have somehow managed to tie himself up enough it actually looks authentic where his wrists are crossed in front of him, and Solarion makes a mental note to ask him to show him later. For now, after snagging on the slashes of dark skin visible in the ripped tunic, mourning the fact that the tunic isn't open enough to spot even a hint of Rook's nipple piercings, Solarion finally meets Rook's eyes, staring at him coolly.

"A single wrong move will have you killed before you have so much as taken a step," he says, as if they aren't completely alone in his rooms and the heavy chair he's sitting on is an actual throne and not a squashy comfortable thing overflowing with cushions, "so, let Us see if you understand your position, drow."

Haughtily, he extends his right arm, layers of flounced lace spilling past the jacket's cuff and covering his wrist, but does nothing to hide the single heavy ring on his middle finger. It's the only thing of gold he's wearing, the crest set in the signet ring made up of high-relief etching of the nine-rayed sun of his family, the unicorns in ivory and the sword and quill in mother-of-pearl. Around them is a boundary in black opal, the light catching the rainbow sparks caught in the darkness of the gem.

Solarion would feel ashamed for the frivolous use he's putting his official signet ring to, even if no one will ever know, if it didn't thrill him so much.

Rook stares down at him for a couple heartbeats, then slinks forward less like a predator and more like he's working the streets. Or maybe that's just Solarion's imagination, for Rook still manages to seem dangerous, all the way up to when he kneels down in front of him, bending his head with submissive grace. It makes Solarion want to tangle his hand in Rook's hair again and yank him forward, and he flushes faintly, embarrassed and aroused both. At least Rook can't see _that_, more focused on snagging the end of the fingers in the hand Solarion's holding out, and leaning forward over it.

Rook's lips slide against Solarion's signet ring as if it is his lips, and the ring, though large, since it's still made for Solarion's slim hands disappears under the press of lips so that Solarion can feel the peek of soft skin against his fingers. He doesn't shiver, but Rook is clearly not done by the look he gives him past his lashes, as well as by the peek of a smirk at the corners of that generous mouth. 

Solarion can see a peek of tongue stealing out to taste gold and gems and mother-of-pearl, and that is _just not right_. It merely makes the heat in his belly tighten and slide lower, however, and he would feel ashamed of that too, if Rook didn't have all of his attention as he drags his lips sideways, pressing a kiss to the corner between thumb and index finger, tongue now coming out to taste his skin, slick and warm.

Solarion's fingers twitches against his intention, but he certainly doesn't yank his hand away. He couldn't move even if he _had to_, rapt attention locked on Rook's bent head as he kisses his way down his index finger, teases a feathery brush of lips against the tip of it... then widens his mouth a little, enough to close his lips about the tip of index as well as Solarion's middle finger and then, meeting Solarion's widening eyes with the sort of bold challenge that has no place in the scene they're playing out (or maybe it does), slowly starts sliding those two fingers into his mouth.

Now, Solarion can't keep from blushing; not with the way Rook's tongue is following the fingers as they go deeper, pressing along the underside of them, teasing the crack where they're pressed together... slides _around them_, and Solarion shivers, realizes where Rook is going with this and he _can't_.

Pulling his hand free, he tangles it in Rook's hair instead, catching his rough breathing into a slightly more controlled inhale. Narrows his eyes while he tightens his fingers around moon-pale hair enough so Rook's smug grin opens into a soft-mouthed, silent groan.

"Let's see if you _really_ understand how this is going to go, if you think you can take such freedoms with Our royal person without following through," Solarion says and is ridiculously proud his voice is steady, if a little rough. It doesn't crack, and his free hand is steady as he goes for the fastenings on his pants. Rook's bright eyes, having started to haze over, flick down to that hand, then up to meet his eyes.

"As His Majesty wishes."

Solarion decides tugging on Rook's hair is a proper punishment for the way his cock throbs, from Rook's accented voice as much as what he chose to say, and _how_ he said it. This time, Rook's groan isn't silent.

### Day 20 - face fucking/deepthroat + Day 19 - hair pulling

As Rook leans forward with wariness he doesn't actually feel and delicately licks at the leaking tip of Solarion's cock before slowly sliding the head into his mouth, he can admit he hadn't expected this to work out. Not _this well_ anyway. He'd expected more hesitation, more breaking of character as Solarion looked to him for reassurance that he wasn't going too far. So far, there hasn't been much of that, and Rook is hard enough it actually _hurts_. He hadn't credited Solarion for being this good of an actor.

Fingertips rubs against his scalp, light and tender compared to the way Solarion's slender hand is twisted into his loose hair, and Rook glances up through his lashes. Haloed in the light from the fixtures around the room, it turns Solarion's white hair nearly champagne in colour, and his eyes look nearly black the way his head is tilted down. The severe lines of the outfit, where not even the silver embroidery softens anything, lends a surprising edge to Solarion's otherwise softly heart-shaped face. He doesn't look threatening, really (that would be too much to ask, honestly), just haughtily distant despite the flush of pink stealing over his cheeks, the way his breathing is catching.

"Clearly you don't _actually_ understand, if you think this is a proper display of obeisance," Solarion says with a sniff, though between the moment where his hand tightens further in Rook's hair and he shifts a shade closer towards the edge of his seat, Solarion's dark blue eyes catches Rook's gaze in a way that contrasts sharply with the glassy stillness of royal imperiousness he's projecting. _There_ is the hesitation Rook expected, and he smiles a little, shifting forward on his knees in silent encouragement.

He doesn't get a chance to go further than that.

Solarion _yanks_, setting off the warning prickles of pain in his scalp into snaps of fire that warms his head, down his spine. At the same time, Solarion thrusts forward, and that is when Rook realizes how close to the edge of the seat Solarion had been sitting. It gives him the space he needs to shove his hips forward freely, and with the way he's pulling and then holding Rook close, it's all too easy for him to force his way in until Rook's lips are pressed against hot skin and cool, silky fabric. The sash Solarion is wearing is draped over the crown of his head, cutting off his view of Solarion as he chokes around the cock now lodged in his throat.

Chokes, swallow, and groans at the way his cock twitches, at the pressure making his throat flutter around it.

"You live," Solarion says, a breathless pause while he shifts against Rook, tilting his hips up, pressing in without actually _moving_, which does a remarkable job of making Solarion's erection seem longer and thicker than it actually is, "on Our say so. We suggest you, ah, think about that."

Solarion shifts back, and pulls Rook back by his hair at the same time, pulling Rook off his cock as much as he pulls away from Rook's mouth. Solarion's hand is now fisted around the long, soft strands close to Rook's skull, warm tingles feeding Rook's arousal as Solarion shoves forward again, pulling him in at the same time by the grip on his hair. Rook can resist, of course, even if his leverage is shitty with the way he has (loosely) tied his hands together, but why the hell _would he want to_?

Even prepared this time, he still chokes a little, swallowing in reflexive struggle around the cock forced all the way to its root inside his mouth and throat. He hadn't expected this either, and it's deeply thrilling all on its own, warming his erection to tender sensitivity in its confines. 

Obediently, he closes his lips around Solarion's cock, tongue dragging along the underside and sucking deeply while Solarion pulls back, using far more force and speed than he ever would normally. The hand in his hair is trembling, a little, but Solarion's rhythm remains steady and when Rook glances up in that moment he's out from under the sash, Solarion's eyes are dark, more haloed by the blue than anything else, and the blush has definitely spread down towards his collar. If there is hesitation, it's eclipsed by arousal.

"Maybe," Solarion's cultured voice is rougher now, his haughtiness faltering for softer heat despite his very best efforts, and Rook swallows decisively around the cock down his throat whenever he has the chance to do so, feeling Solarion shudder and his dick twitch every time, "We should let the guards in here have a turn. It'd only be suita---_Rook_!"

Gasping, Solarion slumps forward as he thrusts in again, both hands buried in Rook's hair now, twisting, and shudders around his release. Rook... isn't _quite_ there yet, but shameful, _safe_ heat throbs in his cock at the image Solarion's words has just painted up and he moans around the softening cock in his mouth, swallowing as much as he can.

Who knew his princeling had it in him?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is another AU, a mix of modern fantasy setting as well as a soulmate AU involving not a prince and a drow of dubious repute, but a CEO's son and a very punk drow. They still <strike>get stuck</strike> find each other. And yes, the kink in this ficlet is _very_ loosely interpreted, I'm only a little sorry.
> 
> Kink for this chapter: Day 8 - crossdressing

"Rook? I don't think I'll be able to _walk_ like this."

He'd been good, and hadn't turned around until Solarion spoke up. It'd been _really hard_, listening to the rustle of fabric and then the smoother, heavier noise of leather, and right now Solarion was outright _creaking_ as he shifted around. Not to talk about the flashes of emotions he'd been getting - embarrassment, uncertainty, stubborn determination, and something Rook wasn't entirely sure what it was just yet, but it felt positive. Rook decided that comment meant it was fine to turn around, and certainly didn't regret it.

"You look _fine_," he said, grinning. The expression further widened into a smirk when Solarion turned around (a pity), swaying a little but still effortlessly keeping his balance, to give him a narrowly exasperated look.

"That's not what I was worried about."

Pale hands slid down dark leather encasing slim thighs, then back up, tugging at the low, low waistband, which only resulted in a muffled noise as the leather pushed up against Solarion's cock and, undoubtedly, his ass. Talking of...

"Turn around again, little rabbit." Rook wasn't the least bit ashamed of the heat in his voice, and only gave Solarion another grin when he looked up at him again. If Solarion wanted him to stop, he shouldn't project fond exasperation through the bond. He got the haughtiest little huff, but Solarion _did_ turn around, and now it was Rook's turn to swallow a muffled noise.

Solarion was wearing one of his pants - all of what he was wearing currently was something of Rook's, from the t-shirt with its incendiary slogan in Drow on it, bright against the black fabric, to the boots, which were an older pair, less straps on them than he currently favoured, to the jacket, again an older one, but worn buttery soft, down to the pants. Those were new enough, hence all the creaking and squeaking as Solarion just couldn't _stand still_, but given the way they were fitting on him, Rook couldn't blame him. They were a little longer on Solarion than they were on Rook, and while he had more space in the front, all that was used to compensate for the lack of space Solarion, compared to Rook, had in the back. Those pants were for Rook's far skinnier ass, and on Solarion they sat as if _painted on_, forcing an already generously curved behind into a downright pert squeeze.

He looked great.

He looked as uncomfortable as he was clearly enjoying it, self-consciously tugging on the waistband of the pants, at the bottom and cuffs of the jacket. Rook glanced sideways, to the bed behind Solarion where his clothes lay (neatly, of course) discarded. Soft gray slacks and a navy blue shirt he'd worn with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the collar shallowly conservative, much as the cut of the rest of the clothes. At least he wore a nice, if very classic, style of low-heeled boots and not something like loafers, but the difference from the clean-cut image the light elf usually presented and _this_ was like night and day.

Rook stared, and couldn't stay where he was any longer.

Solarion jumped a little when Rook's hands slid over his ass to give an indulgent squeeze, confirming the pants were as tight as they looked, but he slid his hands around and rested them over the gentle slope of Solarion's hip bones instead. He was nice, after all. Then he groaned when Solarion shifted back and pressed that pert, full curve of his ass against Rook's growing erection.

"And here I was being _nice_," he said, squeezing Solarion's hips and didn't need him to turn around to pick up on his smug amusement. He even _arched_ a little, half-rubbing himself against him. Dipping his head, Rook buried his nose in the crook of Solarion's neck, ignoring the way the collar of the jacket squashed against his cheek. Clean soap, sunlight and, jarringly different, leather, as he breathed in. The last so much something of _his_, he would have purred if he could.

"I feel ridiculous," Solarion said, and he could hear the uncertain frown in his voice, contrasting with the hesitant pleasure underneath, obvious only across the bond. Rook wouldn't let him hide from the latter by only paying attention to the former, though. Sliding his hands fully around Solarion's middle, Solarion accommodating him by relaxing back against him, Rook kissed his earlobe, sucking the diamond stud there into his mouth and making Solarion shift for another reason entirely than the leather.

"You look _amazing_. How does it feel, wearing clothes from the other side?"

A beat of silence, then Solarion tilted his head back, Rook only just seeing the flash of dark blue past the fall of white hair covering that eye, past the delicate little splash of pink over pale cheeks. Underneath it was a shyly pleased little smile.

"Pretty good, actually."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Main verse; apparently trying to get dressed and ready for some celebration or other becomes even more of an ordeal when both of you get horny through it.
> 
> Kinks: Day 10 - uniforms/mirrors + Day 15 - clothes on + Day 25 - hand job

Solarion's closet was less of a closet and more of a room unto itself, spacious enough despite the clothing that he could turn around completely along the middle of it and march up and down the length of it to get a feel for how clothing both sat and looked, as well as fit a padded bench to sit on. One of the short walls had a wall-to-wall mirror, with a slice of the wall to one side containing a narrow mirror as well, giving him both a head-on view and a side angle. It was needed surprisingly often. The mirror didn't reach up to the ceiling, but it could have served someone far taller than he was to give them a full-length view of themselves.

Dealing with the last of the many tiny, mother-of-pearl buttons down the front of his jacket, Solarion looked up into the mirror, using it to look behind him without turning around while he adjusted his cuffs, tugging gently on the thin, fine layers of lace. He wasn't entirely paying attention, using muscle memory and feel to get the cuffs right while he watched Rook in the mirror instead.

Rook, who was sitting on the bench, eyeing himself with an expression Solarion had to work very hard not to smirk at. Not like Rook hadn't worn current noble light elven fashion before, but admittedly this was the first time it was as fine as this was. Excluding the masquerade outfit, but that wasn't entirely the same thing, Solarion decided. This was...

_Really nice_.

Rook's silver-white hair was braided diagonally down one side of his skull, tied off with a glossy black ribbon, matching the shoes (the first time Solarion had managed to convince him to go with the sort of shoes common among the nobility currently instead of really nice boots). There was a peek of two layers of ruffle around Rook's throat, black like the shoes and ribbon, but the rest... all of it went in white and gold, a match for Solarion's outfit as well as a contrast. Where the shoulders of his jacket was covered in stiff gold-thread embroidery of roses, Rook's upper back had a similar section, the gleaming embroidery portraying winter jasmine instead. Rook's cuffs were broader, larger, and there was no visible ruffle of his shirt cuffs at the end, and his jacket cut away from his front near the bottom and the winter jasmine pattern repeated along the hem of the jacket. It gave him more weight and a surprisingly dramatic profile only enhanced by the white and gold silk and satin against his inky skin. The paler colours helped his skin look like the sky after twilight, but before the sky turned truly black.

Tongue caught between his lips and ignoring it, Solarion dipped his gaze lower, and now he _did_ grin. Thanks to Rook not wearing any of his more usual tunics and the way both the gold with white embroidery waistcoat and the jacket were cut, the knee-length pants, thin and tight as they were, gave ample proof to Rook's _other_ asset.

The pants ending at the knees and letting the even thinner silk stockings cover his lower legs showed off his calves, too, and he did have really nice ones---

"Are you gonna walk out of here like that?"

Guiltily jerking his eyes up, Solarion met Rook's sparkling blue eyes in the mirror, blinked, and _almost_ asked what he meant, and then didn't need to ask as he shifted. Heat crawled up his neck, settled in his cheeks and teased out towards the tips of his ears as Solarion finally registered the fact that he had absolutely gotten hard watching Rook. Just because he was wearing something nice. Well, in his defense, it wasn't something Rook usually wore, it was current fashion, and it was tailor made for him! (He'd thought the way he'd kind of twitched when he'd first seen Rook in his masquerade outfit had been a fluke. Apparently not.)

"There's time," he said, straightening up and giving a haughty sniff, trying to cover his embarrassment, "I can wait it out."

Solarion ducked his head, returning his attention to the not-quite-right arrangement of his cuffs and tried not to stand in such a way that the pants strained too much over his crotch. As such, he missed Rook's expression heating up, missed the amusement turn into heavy-lidded mischief. Certainly missed the fact Rook might be getting on to half-hard himself, now.

"Can't have His Highness go unfulfilled," Rook said and stood up, brushing off his thighs before he walked up to stand right behind Solarion, arms coming around his waist and bunching up the sash dyed deep tyrian purple draped across Solarion's torso as he locked him in place.

*

"Rook..." Soft, amused exasperation warmed Solarion's voice, and he was leaning back against him as if he really didn't believe Rook would go through with this, but he'd said it himself, hadn't he? There was time. Besides, while he couldn't say Solarion's outfit was necessarily getting him hard, no matter how good his princeling looked in it, with white and gold and the dramatic slash of purple across his chest, there was an entirely different reason for Rook to corner Solarion like this, pressing the heel of his hand against the bulge in the gold-threaded satin of the pants. It squeezed the exasperation right out of Solarion, and for a moment he leaned more heavily against Rook as his knees gave before he locked them, dark blue eyes narrowing as he stared at Rook in the mirror. "We---"

"We've got time, so let me," he interrupted before Solarion could put his foot down; for as little as he truly did that, Rook neither wanted to disregard his wishes when he did, and Solarion _could_ throw around his presence pretty well, when he was annoyed enough. So he had to pre-empt him. Leaning down the little bit needed, he breathed against the shell of Solarion's ear, lips brushing against the slender point of it, then down, while he followed the length of the trapped erection with the heel of his hand. Solarion's narrow chest shuddered, making the mother-of-pearl buttons wink in the light.

What he wanted, and he certainly wasn't going to tell his little prince, both because it'd undoubtedly mortify him _and_ be an even surer way to make him refuse, was to debauch him while wearing this outfit. So much coin in such a compressed space, layers of fine fabric and jewels and gold, all aimed towards making the wearer's status clear.

It wasn't that he disliked what he saw; far from. It was just some irresistible desire to watch Solarion fall to pieces while he looked even more royal than he usually did. Solarion's authority was as attractive as it rankled, somewhere, reminding Rook of things he'd firmly left behind and yet Solarion expressed it so differently there was no comparison.

Rook just wanted to mess him up a little.

"_Rook_\---" Solarion hissed, but contrary to being a demand to stop, Solarion decidedly tipped his hips _into_ the pressure of his hand, a slight cant to it that shifted his hand to the right a shade, sliding over soft, fine fabric and the hardness underneath. It was Rook's turn to shiver a little, but this time he had no problem indulging the demand. Was quite happy to, actually, and spread his hand out to map out the shape of Solarion's cock through his pants, watching both what he was doing as well as watching Solarion in the mirror instead of looking down.

Delicate pink was fighting with the golden undertone in Solarion's skin, enhanced by the gold embroidery covering his shoulders, the wink of gold jewellery in his ears, and his bottom lip was turning even pinker at the corners as white teeth dug into it. He rather wanted to kiss him, but that might _really_ distract them, and while they had time, they didn't have so much indulging could become a complicated production.

Solarion met his gaze in the mirror, then looked beyond, actually _at them_ and instantly turned apple red, clashing instead of complimenting the white and gold of his outfit. The blue of Solarion's eyes disappeared beneath the fall of his hair and the angle he ducked his head at, breath shuddering as he pressed back against Rook, still hitching his hips up in a way that had Rook dragging his hand further down, nails catching over hardness and satin to tease between his legs, finding his balls.

"You should watch," he coaxed, shameless about it and unable to hide his laugh, low and warm. Solarion's ear, if not Solarion himself at the moment, certainly appreciated the laughter, twitching against his lips while he did what he could with tight fabric in the way, rubbing carefully against the delicate orbs and then, as Solarion _thrust_, went back up, speeding up, aware of the heat growing under his hand. "You look fantastic."

"I don't---" Solarion's breath caught, voice failing him, either from his embarrassment or because Rook found the head of his cock, pressed down around it and then stroked back along the length, clutching him as well as he could. "Don't _need_, to see."

That's what he said anyway, but his head shifted its angle just slightly, then Solarion turned it to press the side of his face against Rook's shoulder instead. His quiet moan was almost enough to get _Rook_ to come, right there and like that, with nothing more but that noise and the press of Solarion's ass to his cock. Almost wasn't actually though (unfortunately, if luckily, for that would be somewhat embarrassing), and Rook twisted his hand around the heated hardness. He knew he could easily undo the buttons and slip inside, but now he wasn't just _committed_, there was something fascinating watching the shift of gold fabric over Solarion's slim hips, a growing wet spot staining it darker as he worked the bulge over, his own dark hand against the soft, fine fabric---

Solarion stiffened as his hips pressed up against his hand, and Rook was no longer clutching a steady hardness. He made sure to shift his stance so he could hold Solarion up (not hard, despite the really rather short distance between their heights, and their near-identical builds, Solarion weighed less than he did) until his quivering thighs and the sated softness of his spine both stiffened.

"Now I'm going to need to change my trousers," Solarion said, and he was absolutely pouting. Laughing, Rook gave in, tipped his head back, and kissed him.

"No one's going to notice if you wear a slightly different pair of gold pants to this outfit, little rabbit," Rook said and was graced by a narrowly offended stare.

"I think you'll find you're wrong. But no matter, there's no time to argue about it if should help you _and_ change--- Rook?" Solarion frowned, his confusion adorable, as Rook stepped away from him, waving him off.

"Change. I'll wait it out."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Main verse; some thoughts on sex, personalities, and How You Like To Do it (it might not be what you think it is).
> 
> Kinks here: Day 11 - power bottom

The thing one had to remember was that it wasn't necessary to _literally_ be on top to dictate what was happening, no matter what one liked, or _how_ one liked it. Solarion could readily admit riding was one of his favourite positions (it'd had a pleasing aesthetic to it before he'd gotten to try it, and with Rook's assistance he'd confirmed it), but on his back, legs hooked around Rook's narrow hips and heels digging into his ass had its own charms.

Like stopping Rook mid-motion, buried to the hilt and shuddering against him, chest heaving and a sparkling drop of sweat sliding down past one sapphire nipple piercing, by merely tensing his thighs and calves.

Not that Rook couldn't have continued to move if he felt like it, but the point was, he didn't.

Bottom lip caught between his teeth as Solarion raised his hips and pressed himself forward, clenching around Rook until they were both moaning from the sensation, Solarion threw his head back. Squeezing Rook's biceps, he gasped when Rook leaned in, licking down his throat. He dug his heels into Rook's buttcheeks, one for each heel, and pressed him, somehow, that infinitesimal breath closer. Wrapping his arms around Rook's shoulders and twining his hands in shining white hair that fell just past Rook's dark shoulders, Solarion twined himself _more_ around Rook, even though that wouldn't quite help either of them do anything but keep Rook trapped inside of him. And well, it let Solarion enjoy the heated fullness of Rook splitting him open, feeling no less huge _now_ than he had the first time.

"Go as slow as you want," he breathed into Rook's ear, "and then, when you can't stand it any longer, do it a little _more_... then you bend me in half and we'll see how long _either_ of us lasts."

Rook's laughter mingled with his, and he tilted his head as he pulled away the moment Solarion unwound his arms, pale hands sliding over dark skin in a slow caress until he was squeezing Rook's wrists where his hands were down near Solarion's hips, and then let his hands fall away.

"Are you sure, little rabbit? I remember you usually lose patience before me," he said, smile wicked, and Solarion refused to blush, no matter how correct Rook was.

"I said what I said, love." Pointedly, he squeezed around Rook, pretending like that didn't _also_ press Rook against his prostrate and shoot liquid lighting up his spine, down into his cock, making it twitch, leaving him catching his breath. The fact that it almost got a breathless wheeze out of Rook as a delicate purple washed over his cheeks and he jerked his hips against him was the real prize. Cocking his head, Solarion smiled up at Rook past his dishevelled bangs, flushed pink skin, and heaving chest and arched an eyebrow. "Now."

He didn't even need to do much of anything, just said it _just so_, eased his grip on Rook's hips up, and then allowed himself to admit that it'd been a foolish idea, for Rook _did_ have more patience than he did, and also more stamina. Well, that was as much a blessing as it was a curse, and one had to torture oneself sometimes.

Especially when it was as pleasant as this, feeling like his breath was slowly being squeezed out of him as Rook just as slowly pressed inside over and over again, the pace nearly maddeningly glacial. It was exactly what he'd wanted and Rook, as always, was all too happy to oblige him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern/soulmate AU again. Rook can be _very_ persuasive and, since he keeps this one particular pet name through all 'verses, finally gets a chance to make Solarion embody it even more than just scrunching his nose sometimes.
> 
> Kinks here: Day 13 - costumes/cosplay

Solarion still isn't sure how Rook talked him into this. There'd been teasing, cajoling, a couple heatedly whispered promises, and then, the coup de grace. Rook didn't often make use of his pouty puppy eyes, but they were downright _deadly_. Still, even with all that, Solarion isn't quite why he actually agreed and is now going through with this. It's ridiculous, and feels a little insulting.

... Okay, no, it's not that. He just feels awkward. Awkward peeking at the scraps of clothing where they're laying on the bed in the corner of his eye. Awkward undressing. Awkward pulling the _very_ short, long-sleeved bolero on, closed by a single button under the hollow in his throat, dramatically cutting away under his arms and only barely covering his upper back. It leaves his chest decidedly bare, and if it wasn't warm in Rook's apartment, he'd be shivering. He does so _anyway_, feeling air brush over his nipples.

Next a pair of hot pants with a very conspicuous hole in the back, and Solarion eyes it with deep, flustered mistrust, narrowing his eyes accusingly at the brief article of clothing like _it_ is responsible for his predicament. He pulls it on, cheeks heating. The shorts sit low enough that when (if) zipped up, they'll just barely cover everything important, and he can also feel a distinct brush of air around the bottom curve of his butt. At the very least, he has to admit, the outfit, as... practically nonexistent as it is, is surprisingly comfortable, and the flocked material it's made out of nearly distractingly soft.

They match the ears, which are at least not exaggerated in size but just as damning all the same. Eyeing the headband narrowly, Solarion suppresses a sigh and slides it into his hair. He feels _ridiculous_. The shoes, if they're supposed to be called that, are honestly the least offensive part of the outfit; like high heels without any actual _heels_, merely reinforced under the toes and the arch, they help him keep his balance while he walks on the balls of his feet.

Lastly...

Solarion picks the fluffy-ended butt plug up with a grim expression, eyeing it with deepening mortification. It's one of theirs, so it's not actually unfamiliar, but the fluffy puff of a tail attached to the end of it certainly _is_ new, and came with the outfit. This is terrible, and if Rook laughs he's tossing him out of his own apartment (no, he isn't). The only reason he's about to walk out of here before he's entirely done is because it'll be easier if Rook helps him, especially when the plug is in and it's time to fit the tail through the hole in the hot pants. Swallowing a groan, Solarion swallows the rest of his dignity with it and opens the door to the tiny bedroom.

"Rook? Help me with this." Solarion's already aiming for the small kitchen table, figuring it'll be easiest to help him if he's bent over slightly. At least he needs to bend less in these shoes. He very decidedly didn't looked at Rook as he came out of the sleeping niche, but Rook is also for some reason not coming up behind him. 

Turning around, Solarion blinks, staring across the the open space to the part of the room used as a living room, where Rook's one, beat-up love seat sits. He's blushing (well, at least Solarion isn't the only one, then), and there's no (yet) heated, smirking low-lidded look plastered on Rook's face. No, instead he's wide eyed, those blue eyes so bright they almost seem to glow in the muted light of the apartment, and Solarion might not feel so bad about this, now.

"... _Rook_?"

*

Twitching when Solarion repeats his name, Rook realizes he's been staring and straightens up, clearing his throat. "Yeah. I'll help."

He might sound a little strangled, but he figures that's a small price to pay, and proper tribute for the sight he's presented with. His little rabbit - _literally_ so, right now - looks vaguely pleased, anyway. He should. The velvety flocking gives a soft, nearly furry look to the, ah, _very_ brief clothing, the white of the hotpants, bolero and ears matching Solarion's hair. The long sleeves on the bolero emphasize the lean lines of Solarion's slender torso, the pink of his nipples like beacons the way they're framed. The hot pants, though they're not zipped up, are only barely hiding Solarion's modest dick.

... Good thing _he_ wasn't the one wearing the outfit. Not that he couldn't work it, but the _point_, Rook feels, about the outfit isn't just all that's left bare, it's what _isn't_. It's the slender-limbed _tease_ of it---

Okay, helping Solarion it is, though he has to adjust himself as he comes over, and Solarion's expression is somewhere between pink-faced embarrassment and smug amusement as he turns around to brace against the table.

Oh.

Ah.

The long line of Solarion's bare back is a narrow sweep of pale skin, and Rook's hand is like an ink spill against it and the equally pale shorts as he tugs them down below Solarion's ass. The grope, he thinks, is understandable, and Solarion at least doesn't _say anything_, just arches under it. It makes the ears on his head shift, and if the butt plug was already in, it'd make the tail bob. Grinning at the idea, Rook doesn't waste any time getting the plug slicked up, then pauses.

"Ready?"

"If you don't hurry up, I'm going to get out of this embarrassment," Solarion says, a genuine thread of tension in his voice, and Rook complies. If... while indulging himself. How is he supposed _not to_, when it's easier to focus on the sight in front of him when it's not his dick he's pushing inside Solarion's ass? He squeezes one cheek to the side to press the tip of the bulb to Solarion's entrance, earning himself a shuddering huff and Solarion spreading his legs slightly. He probably didn't even notice he did it. Rook's smile might be fondly lopsided, but the heat settling in his crotch is very real, making the strain of his pants against him that much worse.

He works the plug in slowly, letting Solarion adjust and relax around it. He would have chosen a smaller one, but Solarion had chosen this one himself, while blushing prettily, so who was he to deny him? He shifts it around and jiggles it for every bit it disappears inside past the firm swell of Solarion's cheeks. Then, right before it settles into place with that last little slide of muscles tugging it inside, he pulls it _out_ again.

"_Rook_\---!" Solarion's groan is breathless, and he can see his fingers tighten around the edge of the table as he glances over one narrow shoulder. Solarion arches up, too, turning the angle of his back from graceful to _fuck me_.

"Yeah," he says, and gently pushes the plug back in, letting it go this time and watching the tail settle into place, a little low for a real tail, but the way the high arches of Solarion's ass frame it..? _Perfect_. He'd linger more when pulling the hotpants back up and tugging the tail through the hole and into place if he might not ruin everything and simply pull the plug out _right away_ again.

With a deep breath, which matches Solarion's heavy exhale, Rook steps away as Solarion straightens up, swaying slightly before he catches his balance and his face briefly contorts in a mix of breathless pleasure and mortification from the way the plug shifts inside of him. Rook's about to point out that if Solarion had chosen a smaller one, he wouldn't be having this issue, but right about then Solarion has zipped himself up and he turns to face him, staring down at him with his dark blue eyes smouldering.

Staring _down_.

With Rook barefoot and Solarion on the balls of his feet, he is, for once, taller than Rook. Not by much, but just enough, and the look on his face suits the animal attributes he's wearing - it's warm, liquidly soft... and not at all like a prey animal facing a predator.

"Turn around for me, would you, little rabbit?" Again, Rook can acknowledge he sounds kind of strangled, and while Solarion's still blushing, the low-lidded grin is nothing but heated. He turns too, a graceful sway to his step and hips both. The fluffy little tail absolutely _does_ bob as he moves, and when he's facing Rook again, there's a narrow look in his face as he looks him up and down.

"I hope you're up for more than once, tonight. I'm not pulling this out immediately, but when it _does_ come out, you better be ready." Solarion tiptoes up to him, his ears bobbing with every step much as the tail must be doing, framed by that perfect ass, and stretches his arms out over Rook's shoulders, leaning in close. Against his pale skin and the white of the outfit, his rosebud lips look very pink.

"Whatever you want," Rook says, and while he always means it, he might be meaning it a little more fervently right now.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Main verse: Solarion is very fond of Rook nipples and decides to indulge himself while Rook can't do anything about it.
> 
> Kinks in this chapter: Day 16 - nipple play + Day 12 - bondage

Sitting back on his knees after tying the ribbon, Solarion watched Rook tug on his arms; first one, then the other, then both of them together, but while the fabric may be soft, it was still strong. More than strong enough to hold someone who was stronger than either of them, Solarion knew, if only theoretically. His knots, too, were definitely good enough to hold, despite that the shiny fabric was a bit slick and could be hard to make hold a knot if you didn't know what you were doing.

Or, well, if you wanted to give the person you were tying up a way to slip out of the bonds. That was how they'd started out, both of them uncertain they really were ready to afford that sort of immobility. (It wasn't about the trust, not _really_. It was complicated.) Not this time, though. This time, Solarion had tied the ribbons as you could, and the knots held as much as the ribbons held against Rook yanking on them.

"You'll have to show me the trick later," Rook said thoughtfully as he tipped his head sideways to watch where the shining golden length of fabric, half as broad as a palm, was wound several times around his wrists, tied into a knot, then led back to the head of the bed and tied again. Each place was further tied off with a bow, just to needle Rook a little, and by the exasperated look Solarion got, he'd succeeded. Solarion smiled benevolently, tipping his head to the side, and pretended he hadn't seen that.

"I will," he promised, and then actually took a moment to enjoy the sight laid out for him. The white sheets and huge, fluffy pillows in equally white pillowcases were a stark contrast against Rook's dark skin, like moving shadow, almost. The golden ribbons, holding Rook's arms out to the side and up towards the head of the bed, were matched by the ribbon wrapped criss-crossed around Rook's lower legs and loosely tied together between his ankles, and shimmered every time he shifted. It was pretty, and Solarion had just reached out a hand, dropping it to Rook's smooth, strong thigh and staring down at, again, the contrast between dark and light, when Rook apparently thought now was a good time to be smart.

"Are you only going to watch, Your Highness?" 

Solarion didn't need to turn his head to know Rook had arched an eyebrow and was probably smirking at him. He didn't bother to look over, rather kept looking up Rook's long legs, to the large, half-hard organ starting to rise up with purple-tinged pride from Rook's groin, and, after a moment of lamenting that that wasn't what he was going to touch, in any way or at all, tonight, Solarion moved on.

"Perhaps," he said mildly, squeezing Rook's thigh and sliding down to lay on his stomach and partially on top of Rook, an arm folded under him on top of Rook's stomach, which flexed under his weight. Like this, he had Rook's chest and his generous but teasingly smirking mouth right in front of him. The best thing about the sleekly muscled chest was the dark purple nipples crowning inky skin. "Why shouldn't I? You're as handsome as you're pretty."

Rook's smirk turned into a smug smile, but there was a warmth in his eyes that belied the arrogance of his reaction to the compliment. Solarion met that smug pleasure with an agreeable quirk to one corner of his mouth, and reached out with the hand he wasn't laying on. Traced around the dusky nipple until he slid his fingers up on the chain trailing away from the little ring hanging beside the drop-shaped piercing, and pressed his fingertip down. Dragged it along the chain until he'd stretched it out, and Rook's stomach tensed beneath his arm while he tried to keep from squirming.

The shifting caught light in the faceted drops of sapphire decorating Rook's nipples, the gem blue and the metal gold. Solarion eased up on the pressure on the chain and followed it up to the opposite nipple, flicking the piercing there, instead.

"But maybe I was just taking my time to get to where I was going." Smile edging into a little grin of his own, now, Solarion reached down to decisively tug on the thin chain between the piercings, until Rook's nipples were pulled away from his chest and Rook was arching up against him, trying to follow along and not getting very far, thanks to the ribbons. "Do you think you can come just from this?"

Idle curiosity full of intent; he'd been curious about that since the first time he'd gotten to touch and watched Rook blush and his pale eyes darken, and he looked up now to meet blue eyes, as dark now as they'd been then, and cocked his head in inquiry.

"Little rabbit, you don't seriously mean that..?" Rook looked as intrigued as he seemed a little pinched at the suggestion Solarion would be avoiding his dick and hole both entirely. Smiling one of his best innocent smiles, he shook his head, fringe briefly falling away to reveal both his eyes.

"I most certainly do," he assured Rook and leaned over, gently rolling one nipple between finger and thumb to feel where the metal was piercing the sensitive little nub, already hard, and sucked the other piercing into his mouth until his lips were around the nipple and he could roll the piercing around with his tongue. Looking up to meet Rook's gaze, he arched his eyebrows and smiled around the nipple, tugging on the piercing he had his fingers on. Rook sucked a breath in, his stomach flexing along with his shifting hips, and there was now a creeping purple tingeing Rook's cheeks, to match the purple colouring his hardening erection. Not that Solarion was looking at his cock, as fetching as it was, thick and long and demanding your full attention if you gave it half a chance.

Which was why he wasn't, and instead traced out the one piercing, then down to the chain, and pulled on it. Pulled on it until he could feel the chain taut against his bottom lip and chin as he sucked on the piercing in his mouth while Rook's breath came shorter and shorter until he was panting. He eased up on the chain, enough so Rook's weight shifted back heavily into the mattress and his blue eyes, hazy with arousal, met his own again.

"Solarion---"

He could admit his cock twitched, hearing Rook say his name. Partially because he didn't actually use it all that often, partially because of the breathless pleasure in it. Partially also because Rook had dropped his perfect Common and Solarion's name came out accented by his native Drow, the musical cadence different than if it was spoken in most elvish dialects (and entirely different from the more flat Common). In response, Solarion tongued the nipple in his mouth, took the piercing delicately between his teeth, and tugged.

Rook moaned, loudly and deeply enough Solarion felt it against his chin and chest. He could feel Rook's bound legs shifting restlessly, tugging against the ribbon keeping his legs tied to each other, restricting the curled-toe kicks as Solarion changed nipples, tugged on the chain again, and generously licked around the nipple that'd so far remained dry. Rook shuddered and arched up against him, trying again to follow when he kept his hold on the chain, pulling it enough Rook couldn't get far enough to ease up on the pressure thanks to his arms being tied to the headboard.

The nipples were both so very stiff, now, and Solarion eased up on the chain if only so he could, after giving Rook a second to suck a breath in, his chest shuddering under Solarion's weight, pinch one and nibble on the other, firmly enough to feel the metal inside shift and leave Rook twisting against the ribbons. Rook squirmed, then thrust, and he was free to do so against absolutely nothing, for Solarion wasn't pinning him down. The purple on Rook's cheeks had now spread out all the way to the tips of his ears and was working its way down towards his collarbones, a delicate addition of colour to the starker contrasts between dark skin and pale fabrics.

"Sol_arion_, I---"

"I know you want to come, kitten," he said, interrupting the gasping moan of his name, breathing over the wet, sensitive nipple as he spoke and that, too, made Rook squirm, "you look fantastic, by the way. Didn't think I actually _could_ get you squirming so much just from playing with your nipples."

Rook gave him a look that apparently didn't know whether it wanted to be an exasperated glare or a heated flirtation, and Solarion smiled beatifically again, ignored the throbbing from his dick where it was still trapped in his pants, the only article of clothing he still wore, and bent down again. Matched and contrasted feathering touches around one nipple and twitchy jerks of the chain with the way he mouthed at the other piercing, not actually touching the nipple as he let the way he rolled the hard facets of the jewel around in his mouth, or tugged on it, travel into the stiff nub instead. Rook shuddered and twisted under him, but he had enough weight on him to keep him still where he needed to be, all the while his hips were working jerkily and he'd grabbed the ribbons tied to his wrists just to have something to hold on to.

Solarion wasn't even sure what, exactly, caused Rook to tip over; between one moment and the next, he just stiffened, breath caught in the back of his throat, and Solarion could feel his arm and side being hit, seed rolling hot and wet down his skin to pool over Rook's stomach instead.

Slowly, he sat up, staring down at Rook as he came down from his orgasm, mouth trembling open around his pants. His erection practically twitched at the sight, and it was Solarion's turn to squirm.

"Love? Your mouth... would it be all right, if I didn't unti---"

"Come here," Rook said roughly, the most commanding (or maybe that was _demanding_) he'd been all night. Solarion smirked, relieved but still cautiously slow as he undid his pants and went to straddle Rook. Rook, though, didn't have any hesitation over what he wanted to do, or the angle they were going to do it from, and Solarion had no protests, only desire to finally come, too.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Main verse, once again later on during the Badtouch in the Underdark part of the timeline, so this features Elerra, a very distraught Solarion, and a guilty Rook.
> 
> Kinks: Day 17 - impact play(/collars/leashes) + Day 12 dacryphilia

Hand skipping over a few floggers, doubled-over straps and larger paddles, Elerra settles on a small paddle, round with a couple holes in it, and barely larger than her own hand. She has implements for when they're needed, but she prefers the intimacy of using her bare hand, and has the strength to carry through. For this, though, she has no desire to touch skin on skin any more than necessary, but the intimacy will be just as important, so she picks up the small paddle with a certain sense of pleased satisfaction. It'll be perfect.

Turning around, she pauses by the heavy piece of furniture where she stores her flogging implements and leans against it, tapping the edge of the paddle against her lips. What a pleasant view.

Her big, round bed, swathed in heavy fabrics and decorated with several heavily carved bedposts placed at regular space around the it, is decorated not just by pillows and covers, but also two pretty boys. Ristel is dark against the mountain of jewel-toned pillows he's reclining against, leaned forward as far as he's allowed against the short chain between him and the head of the bed. She hadn't bothered with anything elaborate as all she is looking for is a distraction and to unleash some tension before her busy afternoon, but she can _also_ not have Ristel put all that unsightly but amusing desire to _protect_ in her way. Protect, and, far more fitting but she wonders if the light elf knows it, jealous possessiveness. He doesn't want her to touch what's his as much as he doesn't want her to hurt what he cares about.

It's as amusing as it's incredibly easy to exploit, and it's clear the surface has done quite a bit of damage to her ridiculous pet.

No matter; she'll correct it, though it might take more time than it took to make him properly submissive again. Another tap to her lip and she smirks, looking down her slender pet, white leather bright against his dark skin and the dark covers, a leash going from the collar through his cuffed hands and to the _second_ male on her bed, to pool beyond them both.

The second one.

The reason she's choosing a paddle this early afternoon. He looks like a china figure against the dark fabrics on and around her bed, pale, pale, pale, and so very slender, his white hair gleaming on top of his head. Black leather to contrast against the white Ristel is wearing, and against his pale skin. He's also bent over, arms tied behind his back, ass in the air, a spreader bar between his legs. It's a very, very nice ass, and frankly, aside from the additional pressure threatening to break that fragile china statue of a light elf she can put on Rook, the ass is the reason he's still alive, and _here_. It's high and firm, round in ways few males are graced with without certain effort on their part, and all the more delightful for that.

Ristel has his hands tangled in his light elf's hair, awkwardly carding through it with twitches of his fingers. She wonders if it's to try to soothe, or to convince him it's better to stay down. Either way, the sight spurs her forward; time to interrupt such a sweet little scene. She doesn't have all day, and she won't be able to amuse herself again until late tonight, if at all, today. Her pet looks up to watch her approach, wide-eyed, head at a downwards angle. Neither of which stop those bright eyes from darkening when she just _barely_ skates fingertips over the high curve of one pale asscheek, a tremble answering her touch.

Meeting her pet's eyes again, she smiles sweetly, picks up the end of the leash as she settles on her knees behind the light elf, and yanks on it. The choked noise is reward enough, but honestly, not the point. The point is those graceful legs shifting a little wider where he can against the spreader bar as the darthiir tries to change his position in what little way he can to ease the pressure of the collar against his throat. Luckily for him, since Ristel has his hands already close by, shifting from his hair to under his chin isn't far or hard. The light elf's back is now a stiff curve, ass in the air, chest pulled away from the mattress as far as he can with no leverage to use, and that's when she strikes.

The light elf flinches from the whistling crack of wood on flesh probably before he's even registered he's been struck, a startled jerk that stiffens the line of his strained spine into trembling. There's a flare of pink on the outer side of the asscheek where the paddle hit, five small white spots against the pink, like a stylized flower, before the whole thing fades. The tremble of the flesh stills before the pink is gone, and she wants to see it again.

"Stop that!" There's a slight rough edge to the furious, shocked hiss, undoubtedly thanks to his strained breathing, and above the light elf her pet turns ashen, his grip on the darthiir's chin unintentionally jerking against the collar, the way he twitched. Elerra smiles toothily down at him, tapping the paddle against her lips. He's undoubtedly imagining many different consequences to come from such blatant, _demanding_ disrespect, for where the light elf normally manages an at the least deferential tone... that wasn't it. That was aristocratic displeasure used to be obeyed and treated with certain respect. Normally, she would go for her whip right now, but, she has realized she does not need to be so rough.

What she will actually do will work just as well, even if it would be so _easy_ to break the light elf.

Breaking him wouldn't get her submission, though. She would get obedience, certainly, for that is what breaking gets you. So she'll settle for something else entirely, and strikes again, hard enough this time the high curve of the asscheek she's struck wobbles, the pink stain lasting longer, and for a sharp hiss of a breath to be heard. Not a sound otherwise.

Her smile lingering, Elerra settles in for the long haul, though aware of the time she has. Lighter strikes closer to the tail bone, which nonetheless makes the light elf twitch and stiffen in subdued alarm, heavy ones to the full bottom cuve of his ass, and she enjoys the quivering flesh after every strike, the way they ripple outwards over delicate skin. Then there are the quick, sharp ones to his upper thighs. Those are probably the worst for him, especially when she goes for the _inside_ of his thighs, so close to his cock she thinks she can see the hesitant half-hardness flinch and deflate every time she does it. He's so pale, there, that there's already a darkening hint of bruising and he can't protect himself at all, the bar keeping his thighs firmly apart. The rest of the pretty ass is firmly pink, now, edging towards red; the only white is left from every time the paddle strikes and leaves those pale indentations from the holes. It's supremely satisfying, for it would take more work than this to just see her effort turn up on darker drow skin, even Ristel's paler shades.

She doesn't even have to hurry up in fear of not achieving her goal before she really has to leave, for at the next strike, a full, cracking one that nonetheless isn't in a particularly sensitive spot, just right against both cheeks, the cleft hitting the middle of the paddle, the darthiir flinches again, followed by a trembling shudder that settles in his shoulders. She knows what's happening by the way Ristel's eyes widen, his mouth softening in open panic before he snaps his mouth closed, the clack of teeth against teeth hidden under her next strike, to the light elf's inner thigh this time. He flinches so hard he somehow manages to shuffle forward, tugging lightly on the leash she's keeping taut, wound around her other hand.

"_Please_\---" It's begging, yes. Hitched and breathy, to match the tears she knows he's spilling even if she can't see him crying from where she is behind him, and she _does_ wish she could see such naked, humiliating vulnerability. And yet... she has to admit she's impressed, for while he's begging, there's not an ounce of surrender or submission in the stiff trembling that surely only makes him feel the strikes all the more deeply. His slim, elegant cock is definitely half-hard now, and Elerra isn't sure whether he's begging because she managed to force _that_, or because of the pain.

It doesn't matter.

What matters is the expression on Ristel's face as she smacks his little light elf's ass again.

*

Solarion shouldn't be pretty when he cries. He certainly shouldn't be pretty when he looks so distraught, the flush that'd earlier come from the collar restraining his breathing, from his embarrassment, now creeping down towards his chest like a disease and indicating something else tangled up in the distress. His large, dark blue eyes are shiny and his long, thick eyelashes spiky from the tears. The _tears_; huge and crystalline, each one seem equally as reluctant to spill over as the previous one, so they cling, and cling and finally overflow, tracking down the high curve of Solarion's cheeks with ponderous grace.

His fingers are wet.

Whatever Rook had imagined when Solarion had demanded Mistress stop, it isn't this. Nothing he'd have thought of would have included seeing Solarion actually bursting out into tears, and whatever shameful, _guilty_ arousal had been burning in his stomach, making his cock hesitantly twitch while Solarion was getting paddled, evaporates.

Mostly.

Rook wishes he could ever apologize enough for that fact, but he probably can't, because so help him; Mistress looming over Solarion like she is, the shifting bunch of muscle in her arm as each strike hits and the rippling flinch through Solarion's gracefully arched and straining back, the splash of darkening red on his ass...

It's still getting to him.

Even with his palms near to overflowing where they're cupped under Solarion's chin (at least that's what it feels like) from his near-silent crying and the occasional, teary pleading to stop, there's still a stubborn thread of arousal. He wishes he'd dared to introduce spanking before this happened, because _if he had_, maybe he would have known this might happen. Maybe he could have prepared Solarion for it (how?), maybe Solarion wouldn't be crying at all right now.

He doesn't want to see _her_ seeing this utterly terrifying display of vulnerability, for what might she be able to do with it now that she knows? It doesn't matter. He can't do anything at all but try to keep easing the pull of Solarion's collar against his throat.

A single, trembling trickle of wetness streak down the side of Rook's hand, and not even the black spidersilk sheets are dark enough to hide the wet splotch as it lands.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Main verse, before Rook and Solarion met! This one guest stars Solarion's main bodyguard having to Suffer for his charge.
> 
> Kinks: Day 18 - drunk sex + Day 19 - dubcon

Nalethe found his royal charge in a tucked-away sitting room in one of the larger noble mansions in the city. There was a rather respectable amount of _foolish_ aristocratic youngsters scattered around the room, all of them drunk, all of them cheering on the main action happening in a corner. All of them slowly falling silent as he stormed in, the hostess' mother following behind him and radiating displeasure. Clearly this drunken revelry and attendant... canoodling, hadn't been what she had sanctioned.

Not that one didn't expect to find young nobles who hadn't yet reached majority engaging in these sort of activities, but there were limits. Limits which certainly didn't include the clever hand trying to get inside the prince's pants. At least Solarion had his hands safely at chest level, and he was probably a bit too distracted as well as drunk to really consider the potential consequences of what this might lead to. That was why Nalethe, unfortunately, was (had to be) here.

Unceremoniously, he pulled the young noble away, not _quite_ dumping him on the floor. His royal charge stared at the empty spot in front of him, cheeks red, chest heaving and blinking in confusion. Finally, he glanced sideways and up, and broke out into a brilliant smile as he spotted him. Nalethe cursed the day the infernal boy was born, the day _he_ was born, and quickly saved Solarion from ending up face-first on the floor when he tried to get out of the chair.

"Nalethe!" He sounded so delighted, too, as he looped his hand around Nalethe's elbow, accompanied by a not-subtle-at-all groping of his biceps. His dark blue eyes were practically _sparkling_, and the smile remained. Drunk, His Imperial Highness Solarion Hlessar was decidedly more expressive than he was sober... and lacking most of his usual acumen and regular restraint. Not that the slump against Nalethe was in any way faked, he could tell, but the over-bright, slightly unfocused stare that kept going to his lips, and the way Solarion was leaning a _little_ more than was entirely necessary to support himself exposed him.

"We're leaving, Your Highness," Nalethe said and turned them firmly towards the door, following the herd of dispersing, grumbling drunk youngsters. They took a different turn than the rest, however, a servant pointing them down one of the narrow, hidden corridors that went through the mansion. Nalethe was grateful for the assistance; it'd make it far easier to avoid any unsightly displays of the prince's state.

"I wasn't done," Solarion said, now pouting up at him while he slurred the words - and stumbling over the threshold into the corridor, obliging Nalethe to catch him again. With a tightly suppressed sigh, he turned them sideways and picked Solarion up in his arms. Not done? No, of course not. His royal pain of a charge was, unfortunately, usually very well-behaved, which meant that the times he chose to act out were both hard to predict and less instant impulses either of desire or rebellion, but rather well thought-out decisions. Even if, or maybe especially then, they were unwise, and went against very reasonable needs of keeping His Imperial Highness safe.

"I think you'll find, my prince, that you _are_ quite done, and will have wished me to have found you earlier come morning." Nalethe spared a glance up at the ceiling, trying not to shudder at the feeling of hot, alcohol-laden breath washing over his cheek. He could swear he was getting tipsy just of the fumes in Solarion's breath. It was then _Nalethe's_ turn to almost stumble when Solarion buried the delicate tip of his nose against the pulse beneath his jaw, his collar not high enough to protect him from such an assault. Gritting his teeth, he tightened his grip and lengthened his steps. "My prince---"

"Thank you, Captain," Solarion slurred, somehow still quite sweetly, into his ear, lips dragging over Nalethe's skin as he spoke, and Solarion was smiling again. Nalethe glanced sideways, and wished he hadn't. The blush remained like delicate roses on Solarion's cheeks, his skin faintly tanned this late in the year - even all the way down to the slash of bare chest where his jacket and shirt and been ungently pulled open, the narrow slice of slender chest seemingly all the more unseemly for such an innocent patch of bare skin. Nalethe looked away, teeth gritted. "You're really quite kind."

Kind? It was _his job_, gods help him. Solarion shifted in his grip, half flailing as they stepped outside into the warm night air, and Nalethe cursed.

"_Careful_, my---" He silently thanked his good reflexes for snapping his mouth closed in time, though even so Solarion hadn't quite aimed right - the kiss was angled wrong, pressed mostly against the corner of his mouth. That still didn't save him from the feel of those small, soft lips pressing in and Nalethe froze, staring out over the flowering garden at the back of the mansion and the canal on the other end of it, the boat bobbing there. 

He was well-aware of Solarion's crush, of course. He was just as aware that Solarion knew it could not (should not) go anywhere, and Solarion was usually very good at being in control of himself. But he was thoroughly (stinking) drunk at the moment and had wriggled around enough to practically plaster as much of his slender body against his bodyguard and the captain of his guard as possible. Nalethe was quite unprepared - herding younger siblings drunk from similar situations didn't prepare you for sloppy, earnest kisses from your royal charge. He _had_, admittedly, ended up needing to rebuff the advances of younger guards of various stripe in the palace but even that paled in face of this.

Because, even if it was in any way possible, in general, as a brief, ill-advised indulgence to head off anything further, with Solarion drunk it would not be happening either way. His prince tilted his head, a soft noise caught in the back of his throat, sloppily but determinedly seeking to turn the awkward kind-of-kiss into something more of a proper one, and Nalethe was spurred to movement.

"You are _drunk_," he said sternly as he pulled his head away, jostling Solarion roughly enough he moaned in probably nauseous protest and obediently slumped against Nalethe's broad shoulder again instead of being dangerously close to temptation, "this behaviour is unbecoming."

His reply as he strode towards the small boat that'd take them partway back to the palace was soft, even breathing, and a nose nudging the join between shoulder and throat. At least this time it was nowhere near bare skin. Chancing a glance sideways as he carefully stepped into the boat and nodded to the woman with the oar, Nalethe was ridiculously relieved to find his charge asleep. The prince would regret tonight come morning... for several reasons.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Main verse, earlier on so that Rook hasn't quite gotten integrated in the palace life yet, which, really, he doesn't exactly mind or care about... _usually_. It's his own fault though, really.
> 
> Kinks here: Day 21 - cockwarming + Day 26 - jealousy/possessive

Are you sure, Solarion had asked, and he'd said yes. (Like an idiot.) We can figure something out, Solarion had insisted on adding, and he'd reassured his ridiculously optimistic and earnest princeling that no, it really was all right. 

Maybe it even would have been, if he'd just _stayed put_. If he'd focused on the books stacked beside the chair, focused on Hobo in his lap (she'd buried her claws in his thigh when he'd first tried to get up; he should have listened), maybe he'd have been fine if he hadn't put the book he was currently reading down, not peeled Hobo from his lap, and then went outside. Just a look, he'd told himself, if only because he was vaguely curious, and seeing Solarion in the outfit he'd left his rooms in in the circumstances it was meant to be worn and seen in would be worth it, surely. Now, standing in the mostly-empty mezzanine gallery above the ballroom below, Rook was regretting every second and set of events back all the way to three weeks ago, when Solarion had first mentioned that there'd be a celebration for his sister's birthday.

He could have decided back then that, hang everything else, they _would_ figure it out, and said that he was going with him. But he hadn't, because it'd made sense, seemed smarter, and he didn't actually _care_ to go, for him to stay back in Solarion's wing. They hadn't yet gotten so far with his introduction-reveal that the greater court knew that he _wasn't_ a nearly-constantly heavily veiled moon elf, and Tllessareth's birthday celebration involved more people than was most usually present at the court. Solarion's family knew, the servants assigned to Solarion's wing knew... they were working up to finding a good moment to release it to the palace and court at large. Solarion insisted they keep as much control over it as possible, to keep Rook as safe as possible. It was cute, but Rook wasn't sure it'd necessarily help, in the end. He'd defer to Solarion either way, if only because it'd make Solarion feel better.

What would make _Rook_ feel better right now was if he could be down there, right beside Solarion. Not because he particularly wanted to deal with all these people, or cared about showing that he had what they didn't, but...

It was just that he'd been standing here for a little over twenty minutes, they were in on a third dance since he'd slipped into the mezzanine, and Rook knew there'd been more before he came in here, and would be after he left, and Solarion was staying remarkably close to all the people he danced with. Technically, Rook had known exactly how close the pairs were during court dances; Solarion had been teaching him since before the announcement of Tllessareth's birthday celebration. Somehow, though, he hadn't actually connected that to being how _everybody_ would be dancing. In his mind, apparently, it'd been because he and Solarion were dancing with each other.

Not so.

And Rook didn't blame Solarion, who looked radiant in dark blue and white, with the pink slashes of accents in his ribbons, the lining of the jacket and the waistcoat brightening the ensemble up. He blamed every other man and woman who'd so far put so much as a finger on his prince, their hands seeming to lay too familiarly, too far up, close in, coming in _too close_ every time the steps called for the partners drawing in towards each other, looks lingering too long.

Of course he couldn't have kept Solarion to himself the whole evening even if he'd gone with him, but _if he had_, these people would have had a little less time and chance to be... so very close. Fingers itching for any one of the several daggers he was of course wearing, Rook frowned, staring down at the ballroom floor below. This dance would end soon... And while he could not let the invisibility drop, leaving without doing _something_ would straight up kill him.

That decided, Rook slunk soundlessly towards the broad stairs that lead down to the main floor, diving in past the dispersing crowd as those who'd partnered for the dance broke up like petals being pulled from flowers, to reform in new configurations. He ignored all that and aimed for the opposite end where Solarion pulled away from a kiss dropped onto the back of his (gloved) hand, bowing to the other man but definitely retreating faster than he probably should - at least Rook was imagining it that way. Maybe he just wished to find some sign of ambivalence, if not actual _distress_.

He might still have tripped the light elf, though the noble caught himself before he fell on his face. A pity. Rook wasn't very dedicated to that cause, as it was more important to catch up with Solarion before he rejoined his family. One of the pillars that supported the mezzanine floor above offered Rook the opportunity he needed, catching Solarion by the arm to halt him, surging in to drop a brief kiss to Solarion's ear, tugging on the pink, drop-shaped piercing with his teeth. 

Dark blue eyes widened - even the curtain of hair falling over one side of Solarion's face couldn't hide that, and pink bloomed on his cheeks.

"Rook---" The hiss was so quiet, it could have been an exhale. Rook smirked and let go of Solarion's arm.

"Come back soon, little rabbit."

What he _wanted_ was to haul his princeling away, but he let go and stepped away, out of reach even if Solarion had known exactly where he was, and Solarion was obliged to continue walking not to draw attention to himself. It almost physically hurt to not stop him, and Rook didn't stay after that, because otherwise he might really have done something ill-advised.

*

Solarion had had trouble focusing the whole evening, and while he certainly enjoyed it as usual, it was also no less tiring. It always was, no matter how much he _did_ enjoy almost all aspects of his life and function. It was confusing, sometimes, but he dealt with it. So many people, and, tonight, not a one of them were who he most wished to have beside him.

That didn't mean Rook deciding to stop him by the pillar was any less shocking, or the kiss any less surprising or out of place! It was, admittedly, also pretty nice, though Rook _could_ just have decided to attend instead of saying no and do _this_ instead. Why did Rook need to chose the worst (or, maybe, just a little bit, the best) of times to decide to show affection, _invisibly_? It really didn't do much for Solarion's focus, though it did leave him smiling whenever he didn't watch himself.

It was a relief when he could withdraw, the corridors between the ballroom to the carriage courtyard seeming endless, and it was even further to the private apartments, even if the carriage ride took no more time than it usually did. Nodding to the guards outside of his doors, Solarion took a moment to slump against the door after it'd been closed behind him, exhaling. It was very quiet in here, and the airy corridor, mostly in shadow by now, was cool in contrast to the ballroom. But, as good as _alone_ was, alone wasn't actually what he wanted to be right now. Pushing away from the door, Solarion strode down the corridor, hesitating when he came up to Rook's room. Would he be in here by now? He'd been reading in the sitting room between the bedroom that was now Rook's and the one that was Solarion's, so he would probably be back there, still, or maybe...

Solarion didn't even get a chance to step fully inside his bedroom before he was hauled inside, pressed up against the wall beside the door, and kissed until he was breathless and dizzy. Didn't stop him from laughing into Rook's mouth, and he wrapped both arms around Rook's strong, narrow shoulders and clutched him close.

"_Finally_," Rook muttered against Solarion's now kiss-soft and plush lips, "next time I'm coming with you."

Solarion wasn't given a chance to reply, and he couldn't help but notice Rook was definitely clinging as much as, if not more, than he was. Rook's hands were alternately clutching Solarion close or roaming over his body, unable to decide between one or the other. When Rook finally pulled back from the second kiss, just to suck on the pulse point just barely accessible past the open collar and the layers of ruffles, Solarion squeezed Rook's shoulders.

"I want you close," he said, uncertain how to express what he wanted when nothing really had happened tonight, but the look on Rook's face said he agreed. Said he wanted that even more than Solarion did, perhaps, and for slightly different reasons. Solarion's heart skipped a beat at the sight of it.

"Good, because that's what I was thinking too. Let me undress you?"

Blinking up at Rook, Solarion realized he must have missed something huge, for that wasn't a request Rook had ever voiced before. It was something Solarion very pointedly had never asked either; if they undressed, it was with each other's help, not... this. That only underscored the need of the request, then, so Solarion let Rook undress him with slow, ardent attention and care, and he was half-hard before he was even half-naked.

They ended up on the bed in a manner Solarion would have associated more with _cuddling_ than sex, but it proved to work just as well for the latter as it did for the former, with Rook plastered against his side and over his back, one leg between both of Solarion's, an arm tossed up over his shoulders so he could reach Solarion's hand.

"Go slow," he said, and that was exactly what Rook did, his face buried in the back of Solarion's neck, wrapped around him, _in him_, from top to toe.

How long it took before they came, Solarion didn't know and didn't care, but he was hazy with orgasm as well as sleep by that point, and he didn't want Rook to move. Not even to clean them up. It seemed like a small, if eventually disgusting, price to pay, but he hesitated to actually voice what he wanted, for once. It seemed a bit too... weird? No, not that, but it didn't seem like something he should wish for. Rook moved before he could decide what to do, and Solarion knew he muttered some sort of protest.

Then Rook was back, hovering in the same spot behind him, a hand ghosting up and down his spine.

"Solarion... can I--- back inside?"

The near _pleading_ tone, as much as Rook was trying to hide it, woke Solarion up, if not the whole way, but it was enough to make him twist to look over his shoulder. He was surprised Rook had solved his dilemma for him, and a little relieved, but he also didn't have the energy or attention for a second round. Still, he met Rook's bright blue eyes, dark and conflicted, then looked down. Rook was half-hard again, or still, and as much as the confirmation of what Rook wanted brought a little zing of desire, he _was_ still tired.

"I'm not going to be very interesting, love," Solarion warned, even as he slumped back down, reaching back to squeeze Rook's hip. Maybe it didn't matter he wouldn't participate as much as usual, and maybe it'd soothe the wordless desire stuck in his throat. Soft, huffed laughter answered him at first, then Rook slid in closer, his hardening dick nudging in between Solarion's asscheeks, settling in the cleft.

"No, little rabbit. Not for another round. I'd just like... to stay, like that." Again, even when Rook had started out amused, there was something heatedly dark, almost pleading, when he'd finished, and Solarion's chest fluttered. He was tired enough he didn't even hesitate, especially since Rook had cleaned them both up. _That_ was the answer, even if Solarion still wasn't sure it was the _right_ one, but it seemed like a great idea, really. Like cuddling, just... closer.

"Okay," he said, and breathed out as he was breached again, Rook sliding in slowly, pushing him wider as much with his cock as the fact that he was still growing with the erection. When Rook had seated himself, huge and solid and warm inside, he didn't move, though. Just shuffled even closer than he could have been while moving earlier, buried his face back in Solarion's neck and wrapped his arms around his torso.

It was... entirely unlike actual sex, despite that superficially, it was the same thing, with Rook heavy and hard inside of him. But he wasn't moving, seemed supremely _uninterested_ in moving and thus dislodging himself, disturbing either of them. It was very warm, like this, and Solarion smiled into the darkened room, surprised and delighted both. Who cared about 'suitable' or not, if it'd feel like this. Found both of Rook's hands and laced their fingers together before he shifted against him, just a little, to feel him, as much the way Rook was draped over his back as he was inside.

"I want to try this again, some other time," he murmured, meaning with himself in Rook's position but that was too many words to utter right now and closed his eyes instead. Rook, of course, got what he meant anyway as his breath caught briefly before it washed in a warm cloud over Solarion's neck.

"_Good_. Sleep now, princeling."

For once, one of Rook's rare commands were obeyed with all due speed and alacrity.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU! A BDSM AU, to be more specific, and if you're unfamiliar with that, that means dominant, switch and submissive are _biological_ (consider it a little like A/B/O in terms of the biological dynamics and a stronger social hierarchy setup). Solarion needs to blow of some steam while travelling, and his dynamic is doubted twice in short order. It turns out to end really well, though.
> 
> Kinks: Day 22 - dom/sub

The aggravating thing about travel wasn't how long it took, having to navigate around people one might not like, or the rougher accommodations. No, it was standing in front of one of the Houses' proprietors and being met with a dubious purse of the woman's lips, a judging slide of a glance over his frame that thought it saw what there was to see and found his claim ridiculous.

(The most aggravating thing was that such an attitude wasn't even unusual at home, but no one would actually dare reveal such lack of respect and belief.)

Solarion straightened up and looked down his nose at the human woman, eyes narrowing. It didn't even matter that she was nearly a head taller than he was, he'd long since perfected that particular look. Not that it won him any favours by the way her lips thinned, but if need be he'd go elsewhere. Surely there was another place in this city that would win Nalethe's approval, and while he felt wound tight, felt like being thoroughly rude and slap this woman in the face with the weight of his presence, he didn't. He wasn't _that_ far gone. He could even wait for Nalethe to find another place, if need be.

"I'll see if I can find someone who's available," she said with a sniff and turned on her heel, and Solarion allowed himself to shift back a little, the stiff weight of his spine softening up somewhat. His skin still felt too tight, like he was larger than he was tall. Carefully, Solarion closed his eyes, taking comfort in the smoothly accommodating weight of Nalethe at his left shoulder. He was like glass, and yet acquiescing from the subtle weight Solarion couldn't help but exert as close as they stood to each other. Even that wasn't helping any longer - in fact, there was a restless little part that was now riled enough it wanted to whip around and make Nalethe _kneel_. Properly, that was, not the superficial politeness that gesture usually was from Nalethe, the few times it happened.

Exhaling, Solarion tightened the hand he had around his wrist until the urge eased back beneath the general irritation. Maybe everyone was correct in that he needed to at least find a reliable consort to accompany him, since he was sent out pretty often. He'd thought they were being too concerned, thinking he couldn't handle himself, thinking he didn't _know his limits_. It wasn't like his needs were particularly high maintenance. Travel made everything a lot more complicated though, and Solarion had to admit that, maybe, he'd misjudged the reason for the not-so-subtle pushing, and misjudged his own needs.

The woman came back, holding out a golden key.

"Here you are, Sir. Second floor, fourth door to the right."

Leaving Nalethe in the lobby, Solarion strode up the stairs, driven forward by purpose as much as the atmosphere in the airy building, quiet promise that was more weighted behind each door he passed. Unlocking the right door, Solarion blinked as he closed it, startled by the heavy, drawn curtains that turned the large room into warm dimness, the sunlight outside smothered and the light inside provided only by scattered lamps. The effect was surprisingly intimate, even in the middle of the day.

"_This_ is what I have to deal with on the one day I'm here? Does she really think I can switch at the drop of a hat when I come here, or what..." The accented, condescending scoff turned into an almost sullen mutter towards the end, and Solarion, unable to place the accented Common, turned towards it with barely constrained fury. He was brought up short as soon as he spotted the submissive. Staring, eyes wide and Offended as well as flabbergasted, Solarion completely forgot to be annoyed (for now) that his status had once again been disbelieved. A drow. A _drow_. It would almost be funny, that she'd had the most perfect way to get back at him for his subtle jab in return for her disbelief of his being a dominant.

Only almost. Mostly Solarion stared across the room at the dark elf, who was wearing only a fetching array of white leather straps and some gauzy violet silks, and felt very disgruntled. He also was so antsy by now the only word that came to him to describe the tension _was_ antsy, and he drew himself up as far as he could (which, admittedly, wasn't far, and he noted distractedly he was of an equal height to the drow who was barefoot), ready to storm out. He wouldn't take this _insult_!

Prickling weight at the back of his neck made Solarion pause despite himself, frowning. Unsettled tension called to like, and Solarion could see the dark elf wasn't truly relaxed, and in such a way that had nothing to do with being faced with a light elf. Actually starting to pay attention, he could feel the unsteady presence in the other, restless and wound tight, which, considering the work he was undoubtedly doing to keep himself as unobtrusive as possible, was pretty impressive. He also... actually... wasn't ugly.

At all.

Of course he wasn't ugly; he was an _elf_, but... Solarion would have thought so many additional factors might have weighed enough he wouldn't consider a dark elf attractive in the least. But this one undoubtedly was, and not _just_ because his submissive aspect was strong enough despite attempts at shielding it to call to Solarion's unsettled dominance.

"We shall both have to deal," he said tightly, back straight and cocking his head, sweeping another look up the drow's body and meeting shockingly blue eyes that, briefly, widened in surprise. Then they narrowed, turning both more wary as well as calculating. And, maybe, a little interested. It was surprisingly pleasing, to note the last.

"I wasn't kidding, you know. I chose this House today for a _reason_; I can't switch like that at the drop of a hat, even if you're a fluffy-headed light elf _princeling_\---"

"_Kneel_," Solarion hissed, offended fury lacing together with the weight of his presence. Instantly, as the drow sucked in a choked breath and thumped - gracefully, still, of course - to his knees, Solarion also felt ashamed for his crude behaviour. Just because he was feeling so tightly wound wasn't any excuse to behave like some uncivilized barbarian, forcing his dynamic and will on the drow. Closing his eyes, Solarion exhaled, but he couldn't quite pull his presence back enough to _not_ press with gentle insistence against the drow who... wasn't fighting it? "I apologize for my behaviour. I'd go down and ask for another placement, but this was an emergency."

Opening his eyes once more, Solarion met blue eyes again - now neither narrowed nor wide, the drow looked more thoughtful more than anything else as he looked up at Solarion from an angle, head tilted to mostly remain aimed down at the floor. It stretched his neck, and let a couple strands of stark white hair tease the smooth, inky grey length of it, blending against the narrow collar.

"I suppose I misjudged, little prince," the drow said, making the last two words into something other than the insult the _princeling_ had been. Instead, it became a strangely suitable replacement for any other possible title of respect - and it _was_ a little amusing, that the drow had landed on something that actually applied to Solarion.

"You did," he said haughtily, but the edge of it was softened by his amusement, and Solarion relaxed, both intentionally and completely reflexively, when he saw the drow shift more properly into place, narrow shoulders sloping downwards as he placed his hands on his thighs. It drew Solarion's gaze down, down, and his first brief observation had been correct; the drow was _very_ well-endowed. More than just his settling need sat up and took notice, then. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, to find out if this could work, even if it _was_ with a dark elf. "So I think you should apologize."

Relaxing as he strode deeper into the room, Solarion stopped in front of the kneeling drow and took a moment to breathe. Strangely, despite the offensive start, he... already felt better.

"And my proper title is 'Your Highness'. You're to use it at all times this afternoon, or I _am_ going to punish you." He cocked his head, meeting blue eyes that were soft, now, though the teasing edge of a smirk hovered in the corner of those very generous lips.

"Yes, Your Highness."

Biting his lip at the roll of the accent over his title, even if it was spoken in Common, Solarion found himself smiling. Just a little one, which provoked an answering twitch of the drow's lips before he wiped the expression out. Well, he wasn't going to call the drow nothing more than that through this, even if most would probably have been satisfied with that. Drow or not, it didn't sit well with Solarion to disrespect his submissive that way, even if this was a very temporary 'his'.

"Your name will do for an apology. _This time_," he said, enjoying the weight he put into those words, enjoying the answering little shudder from the drow, the way the tilt of his head deepened a shade further.

"... Rook, Your Highness."

Arching an eyebrow in surprise, Solarion was curious as to why it was a name _in Common_, but decided that that couldn't be any of his business. Not as a temporary dominant during a tryst in a House. 

No, he'd accept it as given and move on. Now that he was relaxing, there was any number of things he wanted to touch upon (completely aside from that amazing dick and those lips, there were also piercings in Rook's nipples), but what Solarion did first was step even closer, reaching out to run his fingers through the partially loose hair. First once, but when he got a slight shudder from Rook and the drow tilting towards him a shade, Solarion repeated it, combing his fingers through the silky hair. Tension ran out of him with every slide of his hand, and, in matching response, the previously stiff line of Rook's shoulder slowly softened, the feeling of his dynamic growing as he let go, let it fit in under Solarion's dominant presence until Rook was answering to every slight little press of fingertips to his scalp.

This was exactly what Solarion needed, even if it wasn't _all_ he would do with the time he had.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Main verse again, and some people having problems with their prince's relationship. They take to some somewhat... unorthodox methods of showing him the "error" of his ways. Nalethe is as much a cockblock as he's an enabler. (This is two consecutive and interconnected ficlets.)
> 
> Kinks: Day 23 - drugged, Day 24 - reluctant sex

Relaxed and warm in a way that made it feel like he was floating, a little, Solarion couldn't really be bothered by the fact that he was lightheaded, and that his limbs felt too heavy to move himself, and that he couldn't really see anything but warmly blurred shapes. He was good right where he was, even when focusing more than a finger's breadth away from his body with his attention, never mind his eyes, was utterly impossible - in return, though, he had never been this aware of his body. Not in an unsettling way, not in any way that made it uncomfortable or painful; no, rather, it was amazing. _Fantastic_, even, as the slide of fabric against his skin was like a constant caress, teasing all over his body; there was a knee pressed against his crotch, shifting just enough it turned the solid pressure into a massage to arch up against and there was large (that wasn't quite right), warm hands on his shoulders, turning the caress of the fabric into a wash of sparkling sensation as they squeezed, pressing him down against the thickly stuffed bench he lay on.

Hot, alcohol-spiky breath washed over his face, and Solarion shivered a little at the tickle of it. The mouth that followed would probably have been cleverly skilled even if he didn't feel like _this_, but right now it stole his breath with only a bare brush of them, and the tongue turned the inside of his mouth into heady fireworks.

There was something not quite right with that, too, though. Too dry, too... narrow?

Pulling away was less a question of a decisive jerk of his head and more a restless heave of his whole body, just enough to dislodge the mouth against his as his head lolled to the side. His lips felt cold, now, and he rather wanted all that sensation back, so when fingers stroked his chin and set his nerves on fire in a tingle he felt all the way down to his _toes_, Solarion followed the push of them, tilting his head up again into the kiss that followed. But he couldn't quite dismiss the feeling that something wasn't quite right, and the chuckle, though it felt like the richest champagne in his mouth, only emphasized that. It was smugly pleased, to be sure, but entirely wrong in pitch and roll, even with how hard it was to focus on anything but touch, how he _felt_.

Someone said something, hissing urgently in a way that hurt Solarion's ears, right now, and he squirmed in discomfort. The touches left. First the lips, and Solarion gasped in bereft disappointment, the pout briefly distracting him with the teasing pull of his own muscles. Then the hands were gone, leaving cold, nearly _aching_ spots of nothing but the caress of fabric, which wasn't enough. Then the knee went, too, and a flurry of thundering footsteps rang up in the air around him, filling his whole body up, unpleasant in comparison to the warmth before and Solarion couldn't help but moan in disappointment, staring up at a ceiling that swam like an ivory sea. It was pretty, but too far away to touch, and it didn't help his lightheaded dizziness at all. Shifting against the soft bench, Solarion closed his eyes - snapped them open when a shadow fell over him, surprised and delighted that even just that seemed to make his nerves tingle.

Oh.

He recognized those eyes. They were the only thing he could really easily focus on, and Solarion smiled - at least he thought so, but it just seemed to make Nalethe even more furious, whatever he was angry about. He shouldn't be so tense, all the time...

Being picked up was good, though, and Solarion let his head loll against Nalethe's shoulder. Rubbed his cheek against the fabric, but where the stiff heaviness of it, emphasized by the scratchy embroidery, had been interesting at first, it quickly became uncomfortable. Instead, Solarion shifted against Nalethe in a way that felt good with the friction between the fabric against his body and the furnace-like solidness of Nalethe's body, moaning quietly, which made the muscles against him twitch interestingly. Nalethe was good, even if there was something else he was missing... In lieu of that, though, Nalethe could do whatever he wanted, and Solarion tried to make that clear by pressing closer, as much as he was able, squirming against him, since his mouth was uncooperative for anything more complicated than wordless noises, it felt like.

Normally, that would probably have frustrated or worried him. At the moment, the way those noises felt in his mouth, rolled off his tongue? Only made Solarion feel better, and he was all too happy to revel in it.

"_Stay still_," Nalethe hissed, sounding strangely strangled, and Solarion subsided less because he _wanted_ to, for that didn't give him as much nice sensation as moving did, if just to feel his clothes shift and rub against him, but, he didn't want Nalethe to be angry. If staying still was the only way he could do that at the moment, he would. Still, Solarion couldn't help the pout, and then paused right there, for the way his lips slid against each other when he did that felt good, too...

"_What happened_?" New voice, hovering somewhere between high, tight distress and murderously furious. Familiar, too, in the way it sounded, tickling Solarion's ear, the inside of his head and made his scalp tingle in a way that made him shiver. Solarion blinked slowly and managed to turn his head - more like a loll, really, but it succeeded it getting Rook into view, and he smiled, managing to move a hand to reach for Rook. The hand that clutched his made him flinch, for the first time, for it locked around his so tightly his skin ached from it. A groan of protest escaped him and he pouted again, for that felt both good and... yes, did give him what he wanted, as Rook's grip eased up just enough to turn it from painful to nice, enveloping warmth. "What is _wrong with him_?"

### Day 24 - reluctant sex

The problem with actually being able to participate in the events at the palace with no preparations other than getting dressed nicely enough he passed muster (and Solarion's approval), was that people actually wanted to talk to him. Whether the interest was genuine or not (sometimes it was), it did mean Rook wasn't spending every moment of those celebrations watching or being at Solarion's side.

Of course that meant Solarion disappeared. Of course that meant that when Nalethe came back carrying his princeling, he was flushed, loose-limbed and wide-eyed in a way that tightened Rook's stomach in a good way - fighting against the furious terror since he knew very well this wasn't what Solarion looked like normally, or acted like, for that matter. The way he was splayed in Nalethe's arms would look more at home on a well-trained courtesan trying to get off on merely rubbing against the man carrying him rather than Solarion's restrained comportment, and Rook felt himself flush despite everything.

"Drugged," Nalethe said, voice clipped, "it's not an aphrodisiac, but it makes him pliable, almost insensate and very sensitive. Can you carry him?"

He shook his head, even as he took a step closer, tugged Solarion's hand closer to his chest. "I want to---"

"_I_ will find them. _You_ are going to take care of him," Nalethe snarled, his smoothly bronze skin darkening over his cheeks. He looked more constipated than like he was blushing, but it was clear that was what he was doing. "Exercise will clear it the quickest, but he is in no state to try and do most regular physical exertion on his own at the moment."

The constipated look deepened, and Rook got what Nalethe meant, but that didn't soothe him. It only made him more furious, drove the need to find whoever did this and deal with them. That he'd do it in a way that would probably not be approved of was of little matter, but Rook didn't get a chance to dart around Nalethe. He had to quickly draw on his magic to boost his strength as a warmly loose, _pliant_, Solarion was practically shoved into his arms and instantly plastered himself against him, face in his neck and shifting... just enough. Rook shivered, and panic-edged arousal fought with his protective fury.

"Why this?"

He needed to know. Nalethe looked over his shoulder, lips so thin they seemed to have disappeared.

"I assume they thought showing His Highness what sex was with one of his own might convince him to give up on you, but they're well-aware he wouldn't have gone along with it if in possession of his full faculties. Now _deal with it_."

Nalethe turned on his heels and stormed off, leaving Rook with no way to deal with the upsurge of emotion other than clutching Solarion closer - which only caused him to gasp and wriggle against him, his soft lips moving lazily against Rook's neck, and Rook would have to be more sturdily made than he was to resist _that_.

Still, as he staggered out to where the carriages were, the whole ride an awkward proposition in enduring Solarion pressed up against him like a soft-eyed, heated leech where the lightest brush against anywhere on his body seemed to make him gasp and press closer, draping over him and looking up at Rook in ways not even Rook's deepest, dirtiest fantasies could have conjured. It was deeply discomfiting, and it didn't get any better as they got out of the carriage and he then had to struggle to get them back to Solarion's wing and his way-too-large bed. In fact, the closer they came to Solarion's rooms, the more uncomfortable Rook became.

Maybe it was necessary. Maybe it was the easiest way, but as he stared down at Solarion where the prince was splayed out on his bed, shifting against the sheets in a loose-limbed, unselfconscious way that was downright _obscene_ somehow, it didn't seem right. He couldn't consent like this, could he? Was he even aware it was Rook that was in the room with him? It _wasn't right_, like this, and the unwilling arousal Solarion had managed (so easily, of course) to stir with his limpid looks and the way he'd clung, started to wilt despite the view currently offered.

"_Rook_."

Startled, Rook focused back on Solarion, actually _looking_ instead of seeing nothing but needy, insensate pleasure-seeking. Solarion's gaze was really no more focused than before, the sparkling twilight blue of his eyes mere shadowy rings around the black of his pupils, and he also wasn't precisely focused on Rook's face... but there was an uncertain question in the tension around Solarion's rosebud mouth, the corners of his eyes.

"I'm here," he said, and watched as Solarion relaxed, slumping against the bed, tilting his head up, pouting again. Okay, so he knew it was Rook - _wanted_ it to be him here, but that still didn't mean it was right... or that he should... do anything. No matter how alluring Solarion was like this. "What... do you need?"

Why was he asking? Solarion could surely not answer him in any way that actually counted to make this right. It didn't matter that having sex with him, probably several times, was the quickest way to burn the drug out of his body. He should just keep watch until most of it left Solarion's body on its own, with simple passing time. _That_ would be the right thing to do, wouldn't it? Solarion was still staring, unfocused and breathless and heated, up at him. Or not _at him_, but certainly in the direction he was clearly assured Rook was in, and his bottom lip slowly disappeared into his mouth as pearly teeth bit down - causing him to flinch and gasp at once, the flush on his cheeks creeping down towards his throat. Rook's dick, the traitor that it was, twitched.

"C'mere." It was barely one word, let alone the two it should be, and Solarion beckoning him over was more an arching writhe than it was a raised hand to urge him on, but it was something. With Rook quite unable to deny his princeling anything at all, he answered that call. Crawled up on the bed and over Solarion, hovering above him in an attempt at minimizing any sensation, but even just the bare brushes of touch that he couldn't avoid, as well as the very fact that he was just _there_ seemed to still draw sensation for Solarion, who arched up, not quite moaning.

It was fucking _maddening_, and more than a little unsettling, for this was so starkly different from how Solarion usually was, even when he was caught in the grip of arousal and actually surrendered to the pleasure. Once again, the fact that Solarion couldn't meaningfully tell him anything at all at the moment was like a punch to the gut, and Rook almost rolled off of him.

Almost, except for the hand laid against his chest, and when he looked down, this close Solarion seemed to actually be looking _at him_. Which did absolutely nothing for the dark-eyed wantonness of his expression, but he was at the very least looking at Rook instead of in his general direction.

"You," he said, much more clearly than he'd even said Rook's name, and then promptly pouted again, head tipping back, offering up his cute little mouth and shiny-soft lips and Rook still wasn't sure this was the best way to go about it, but... but he also wanted Solarion back to normal as quickly as possible. He leaned down, took that begging mouth into a kiss, and swallowed the moan that followed.

As he let himself lay down on top of Solarion, his shapely legs fell open for him and Solarion arched up, immediately shuddering at the weight, the their bodies pressed together, and the smile Rook got was enthralled delight.

It was very hard to undress both Solarion and himself, when Solarion did absolutely nothing to help and everything to touch in what little way he could when he wasn't particularly _coordinated_. Conversely, the fact that he wasn't made sure Solarion's attempts at dry humping on Rook, or plastering himself against him in a full-body caress, or... the many other things he tried, not very effective and let Rook finish his task. He wasn't sure what he thought of the fact that Solarion was doing all that as much for himself as for _Rook_, for he fell into instant, nearly heart-rending distress at any displeasure or tension Rook showed. It did help, in some small way, to encourage Rook, even if he didn't feel less conflicted.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Murmuring the question against Solarion's throat earned him the most sinful noise he'd ever heard from his princeling, and it was a wonder _he_ didn't come on the spot. Groaning against the delicate arch and drawing an answering shudder from Solarion as well as hands restlessly kneading his sides, Rook decided that, as much as some part of him wanted to draw it out, to make it feel more _normal_, it was probably best to just get on with it.

Still, he wouldn't help but to kiss down Solarion's chest, and he couldn't be sure if it was for an earnest wish of normalcy, to do what he should and give Solarion more to react to, some tiny bits more to burn the drug away, or some terrible part that was, shamefully, riveted by the sight of Solarion twisting in gasping need against his mouth. The barest brush of his lips made Solarion's stomach twitch and tighten and he threw - well, more like lolled, but the thought was there - his head back with unthinking grace.

It made it starkly clear how tightly controlled Solarion normally was, even in the throes of passion, and that was as charming to Rook as he couldn't help but wonder if it was at all possible to get even a _sliver_ of this normally. Not that he somehow thought Solarion wasn't enjoying himself when they had sex (it would frankly be ridiculous if he thought Solarion's drugged reactions were more honest than Solarion was with him otherwise), but well... Was it so wrong to wish him to _relax_ this much?

Rook didn't know. Wasn't sure he could justify it if asked to, and so moved on instead, just like he kissed down Solarion's body. Couldn't resist licking up his leaking, rock hard erection - that got him a little spurt of precome, a stiff-backed shudder, toes curling and noiseless, Solarion digging half-moons into his shoulders. He almost stayed, right there, because it was always hard to say no to putting his mouth on Solarion, but Rook wasn't sure that would be enough _exertion_.

So he brushed Solarion's arms away, and they fell open onto the bed with a sort of eager, relaxed indulgence that Rook couldn't see had anything to do with the drug - at least not any more than indulging in the sensation of it. It was just... a quickness of reaction that seemed to have more with indulging _Rook_ in anything he currently wished, than Solarion's pleasure-seeking thanks to how sensitive he currently was. Meeting that hazy, dark-eyed expression, Rook having to suppress another groan at it, he hoped he wasn't imagining things and that the expression _did_ confirm it. He couldn't know, since Solarion's most complicated sentence so far had been repeating his name and slurring an almost-comprehensible 'please'. It was shamefully hot.

Stroking his hands down Solarion's thighs, drawing shuddering little twisting arching from him with every caressing stroke, enough so that he repeated it a couple times, for Solarion's expression went softly distracted, the play of muscles under his fine, soft skin seemed more pronounced than usual, and the delicate length of his arching erection, pink nearly all the way to its base was bobbing in a way that, no matter how impossible that was, seemed more unrestrained than usual.

Still, Rook knew he was stalling, and finally hooked Solarion's legs around his hips, getting closer to actually giving in to what he'd been asked (ordered) to do. They'd start here, as he didn't think Solarion would be able to ride him, just yet, and Solarion fucking him was out of question considering he seemed to have all the strength in his spine of a well-fucked whore (forgive his thoughts). 

Taking a breath, he looked down at Solarion. At the gleaming length of his slender body, pink all the way to the chest now, his nipples stiff little peaks begging for attention, a slight arch to his back even now, hitching his hips closer to Rook's admittedly straining erection. Up to Solarion mouth, soft around a moan he wasn't quite giving voice to - a mouth that slowly, kind of, firmed into a pout the longer Rook _didn't_ move, and when he finally looked up to Solarion's eyes, he felt rather punched with the wanton, needy _demand_ in them.

It was strangely reassuring.

"Are you---"

"_Rook_." Crystal clear for the first time since Solarion had disappeared on him earlier this evening, breathless like he'd run a marathon, breathy like he'd been fucked for a week, and there was no mistaking the brattiness in the tone used. _That_ was even more than reassuring, and Rook, finally, felt something in his chest ease, just enough for a smirk, if more of a shadow of one than usual.

"I see you _think_ you're ready, at least," he teased and, because otherwise he might draw this out even longer, thrust in, not allowing himself to take it slow.

Maybe he should have.

Maybe some tiny part of him was curious and ruthless enough to see what would happen, to give Solarion exactly what he was asking for, even if he probably didn't know (or maybe he did, right now - Rook wasn't sure).

Solarion practically seized around him, noiseless again, clamping down like he'd been _electrocuted_. His eyes rolled back up in his head and he came, from merely that (and maybe because Rook ground in against him a little, not quite daring to pull out just yet with how tight Solarion was around him), clawing at the sheets until he slumped back, still-hazy eyes staring up at Rook with an additional glaze to them now. Still, as Rook considered pulling out, for surely the extra sensitivity meant he'd need to _rest_ a little, despite that Nalethe had said the drug wasn't an aphrodisiac, Solarion then _deliberately_ squeezed him, and squeezed Rook's breath out along with it.

Okay.

Fine.

He could do this.

It wasn't so much a question of making love - he wouldn't sully that word, as little as he used it even these days, with _this_ \- as it was fucking into Solarion; slow, hard, barely moving, fast enough he was rocking Solarion forward with every jerking thrust, encouraged by every little twitch and arch and gasping, obscene twist of Solarion's body. Everything seemed better than the last, and Rook lost count of how many times Solarion came, never mind himself.

Finally, he had to give up, as he collapsed next to the light elf, who was, at least, a little less unconcernedly loose-limbed now, and all Rook wanted was to sleep. But the bed was kind of... filthy, honestly, so he pulled up on the dregs of his strength and magic, pulled himself from the bed and pulled Solarion into his arms one more time this night.

There was no instant, leech-like winding, and Rook might as well have been punched by the relief that followed. Solarion's arms around him were light, but locked around his neck on their own accord, and the press of his cheek against Rook's bare shoulder was relaxed and not accompanied by the wanton little squirms of before.

"Feeling better, little rabbit?" Rook could admit he was practically holding his breath in anticipation of an answer more coherent than he'd gotten so far. At first all he got was a muffled, clearly exhausted groan as he crossed the sitting room that separated his and Solarion's bedrooms (as little as he used his own), dodged Hobo on the way to his bed, neatly made, the covers turned aside as they always were come evening, regardless of if he slept in it or not. Then, as he laid Solarion down, he caught the tint of Solarion's sweaty face.

He was blushing. Not that he hadn't been throughout this, but...

"Sun preserve me," Solarion mumbled, choked not with insensate pleasure but all too plain mortification, even as he was still clearly loose-limbed in well-fucked exhaustion and sleepy, and Rook, too tired and relieved to regulate himself, burst out laughing as he followed Solarion onto the bed. The attempted whack of a pillow in his face was too sloppy to even muffle him, really, and Solarion turned readily towards him despite his embarrassed offense, hiding his face in the crook of Rook's neck as soon as he was able to.

"Glad you're with me again."

He would not admit to the way he hugged Solarion close, which now drew no noise of complaint _or_ any filthy noise of breathless pleasure. Solarion sucked his breath in, pressing his face closer to Rook's shoulder, but also tightened his own arms around him.

"Always was, Rook."

He did not imagine the embarrassed edge to Solarion's voice, but since none of this had been Solarion's fault, and this hadn't been something they'd decided to do, and they were tired and, now that it was over, Rook was pretty sure Solarion wasn't just mortified but also unsettled, he refrained from teasing. All he did was tuck him close and buried his nose in the fluff of Solarion's hair, and breathed out in relief, mirrored by an exhale from Solarion as his rabbit relaxed into his arms in an entirely normal way.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern/Soulmate AU again, with Solarion indulging one of Rook's wants, and featuring one of Rook's old partners.
> 
> Kinks: Day 28 - spitroasting

As always when they let down their guards, relax, stop _thinking_ so much, which admittedly is the easiest during sex, sensations start to blend. Solarion finds it as dizzying and interesting as confusing. It always is, but this time, too, it helps assure him this was the correct decision (entirely beyond his slightly reluctant and flustered arousal over how hot this actually is). There is Rook, the awareness of him, constant and wrapped around him. More than that, there's the bleed over of physical sensation; the weird awareness of salty precome like an echo on his tongue, lips stretched wide and a dick scraping the back of his throat, despite that there's nothing in his mouth; the feeling of being stretched, full down below, which makes Solarion clench on absolutely nothing, and shudder.

More than any of those simple things, there's the ghostly warmth of Rook's emotions; arousal, of course, pleasure, definitely, but far more important, underneath those, is a stunned sort of happiness.

Solarion lets himself pull that close as he swallows, easing up his grip on Rook's slim hips, and opens his eyes again, sinking back into the hot clutch around his cock, the sight of Rook stretched out on his knees in front of him, and Rook's face buried in Nadal's crotch, hands on his thighs. He can't see it from here, but he knows Rook has swallowed Nadal to the root, would know even without the bleed over of emotions and physical sensations across their bond, by the way Nadal has his hand buried in Rook's hair, his head tipped back, eyes closed.

He knows that feels good, but he can't deny _this_ feels good too--- Startled at the sudden flex around him, tightening like a vice, Solarion gasps, his grip on Rook's hips tightening again, and blinks the white stars of sensation out of his vision to focus on what he's looking at again. Nadal is watching him, head cocked, and Rook has reached a hand back to grip his wrist, somehow keeping his balance despite the precarious position. Solarion flushes, ducks his head and shifts enough to slide out and then jerk his hips forward, forcing Rook more firmly onto Nadal's cock and wringing a muffled groan from him.

He might feel a little uncertain (insecure, possessive), still, but that doesn't make this any less hot, and he certainly isn't about to leave. Locking eyes with Nadal, he arches an eyebrow and they both pull back at the same time, and thrust in.

Through the bond, all he feels from Rook is hot pleasure and a fuzzy sensation of being _full_.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Main verse, Rook and Solarion being off exploring a magical library (though after Rook has gotten to be a familiar sight at the light elven court). Even cursory checks for magical traps aren't enough, sometimes...
> 
> Kinks here: Day 29 - stuck in a wall

It takes a moment of inattention, of being too certain they'd made sure this room was safe, for things to go potentially _terribly_. Solarion shifts sideways where he's leaning against the wall, to catch the light better against the pages of the book he's reading, and the wall gives. He doesn't even have a chance to yelp; a startled gasp as he flails, twists around, _stretches_ while catching his balance and trying to get away from the space where the wall should be, where the wall _still is_ some part of his mind is aware.

He doesn't quite manage.

He manages enough, though. He's now stuck leaned awkwardly forward, one arm entirely caught in the wall, the other bent at such an angle that he can flex and move his fingers and wriggle his wrist, but that's all. He is, thankfully, _just_ leaned forward far enough that his head, throat, and upper chest is out of the solid confines of the wall, now that it has resolidified. Solarion can, just barely, breathe, as long as he does it slowly and carefully and high in his chest, and doesn't panic. His legs are both partially trapped as well, one in such a way he can't move it even if part of the heel, calf and thigh is outside of enclosing stone. The other, he could twitch his lower leg in something of a kick, but that's all.

"_Solarion_?!" Rook, thankfully, hisses as he comes around the doorway, hurrying over, and does a weird sort of hug-clutch around his head, before he kisses his forehead.

"Just... find the activation for the spell again," Solarion says, embarrassed, his heart still thundering on the edge of panic and the fearful awareness that he could have been trapped inside the wall, and then he would have suffocated, if not been crushed. But he's not trapped, and he's breathing, even if he can't _move_. "I'll be fine."

He smiles up at Rook, who still looks a little wide-eyed and ashen against his usually rich, purple-tinted inky gray skin, until Rook nods, and, with a last, brief kiss to Solarion's lips, even if it means he has to lean over awkwardly, goes back inside the room. Solarion can mostly tell where Rook is by the draft his moving creates, and the occasional brush of fabric against fabric. It makes his skin prickle, but only in his lower half; it's like there's a small part of upper half of him, then nothing, and then the exposed bits of his lower half. Solarion isn't sure whether he should be glad or not that he isn't actually getting any sensation, even pressure, from where stone is trapping him...

"_Rook_!" Remembering to keep his yelp quiet, because he really doesn't need Nalethe and the rest of the guard thundering over from the couple rooms over they're still inside. Not after barely managing to convince them he (and Rook) would be fine since they wouldn't be very far away and they'd made an initial safety check of these rooms. There's a touch where there _shouldn't_ be one in this serious situation, and Solarion doesn't so much as wriggle as he cringes. His awkward kick hits nothing but air, and Rook pats his ass again.

Because that, too, is out in the air, entirely free from stone. He does not imagine the chuckle he can hear, even quiet as it is.

"Just trying to find how you activated the spell," he says, innocent and probably smirking (half to cover his alarm, Solarion knows, but _still_), and then there's _two_ hands on his ass, spread out to cover both full cheeks and giving a generous squeeze. This time when Solarion's skin prickles, it's from a blush that heats up his face all the way out to his ears, which twitch.

"Well, you need to look closer to the wall," Solarion hisses, fighting to sound unaffected, manages a sniff, "my backside has nothing to do with this!"

"Are you sure?" Rook sounds a little more relaxed, now, while he busies himself with rubbing Solarion's ass, thumbs stroking along the cleft, and Solarion has to struggle to keep his breathing even, flexing his free hand. "Maybe there's a reason you ended up with it sticking out like this."

Another squeeze, then Rook takes at least one hand away, but the other remains, spread out and heavy on him, as if Rook's using it as a support while he _hopefully_ is patting around on the wall. It's not like Solarion can see.

"Rook---!" he hisses as Rook shifts that hand to squeeze the bottom curve of his left buttcheek, and then the wall isn't there again and Rook yelps - quietly - while Solarion grunts as much from hitting the floor on the other side of the wall as he is from Rook landing on top of him. Four doors down, Nalethe sticks his head out, golden eyes nearly glowing in the gloom, though by the way they're narrowed they're like slivers of amber more than two lit candles.

"What are you two doing? This isn't a time for horseplay." Suspicion coats Nalethe's voice, and Solarion smiles faintly up at him as Rook rolls off him and helps him to his feet.

"Of course not, Captain," he says with perfect innocence and a gravely collected dip of his head, and Nalethe scowls, his gaze sweeping across him, and then, just slightly reluctantly, over Rook as well, before he disappears back inside. Solarion instantly slumps against Rook, muffling faint, slightly hysterical giggles against his shoulder, and Rook clutches him tighter than he probably meant.

"Your ass really _did_ look better than usual, framed like that," Rook whispers in his ear, and Solarion snorts, loud and undignified; Rook's little smile that he can feel against his ear before he pulls away and leads him back into the room is a good price to pay for this unsettling little episode.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Main verse. We're closing these ficlets with another Badtouch Underdark Adventure scene. Elerra making "her" boys the centerpiece of attention as entertainment at a party.
> 
> Kinks: ... well, this was "your own choice" so, blindfolds, rough sex, public sex, I suppose?

Rook's lips are soft and insistent against Solarion's, hot and distracting, but he _cannot focus_ on the kiss. Can't focus on the mostly bare expanse of slender chest in front of him either, accentuated by white leather straps crossing over and under the pectorals, drawing attention to the blood red drops hanging from Rook's nipples.

There's too many people in this room, a sea of eager, condescending red eyes prickling the back of his head, his back, behind. He's not good enough at Drow yet to understand the chuckled whispers, a low susurration in the middle of rustling fabric, the occasional moans and gasps piercing the air still. Not everybody has stopped to observe the current main 'feature' and instead choosing to continuing their own entertainment. There's also no way to get away from any of this, even if the audience wasn't in the way of any possible exit; they're up on a raised platform in the middle of the room, padded by cushions, some furs he doesn't want to think about their origin of, and sinfully sleek spider silk blankets.

"Solarion," Rook practically exhales his name against his lips, so quietly even Solarion has to strain to pick it up, "keep your attention on me."

It's practically a plea, and Solarion knows it's as much for his sake as for them actually doing what's being demanded of them, because he picked up that much, at least, when Elerra shoved them up here. But with his hands clutched to Rook's thighs and not having moved since they landed there when Rook leaned in to kiss him, and his gaze repeatedly turning off to glance around them no matter how little he actually wants to do that, as well as the stiff lean _away_ from Rook no matter how much he actually would like to enjoy those kisses, he's hardly... participating.

Though, considering the rumble of jeering amusement he can pick up even if he can't understand all that's being said, maybe his obvious reluctance isn't actually that much of a strike against them. At least not to everyone here, _for now_. How much patience they'll have for the way he's acting, Solarion doesn't know.

"I'm trying," he whispers back, but _trying_ seems to be less and less of a possibility the longer this goes on. Rook kisses his ear, nibbling on the tip, and he shivers, his half-hard cock twitching and then immediately subsiding again when Solarion glances around again, the shudder following having nothing to do with pleasure.

One of the women in the audience throws something out loudly enough even Solarion's halting Drow can pick out she just suggested Rook just _push him down and fuck him to show him his place!_

Well, he likes it perfectly well the times Rook does that, but the idea of anyone _watching_ turns his stomach, and he flinches from Rook's hands on his hips. They pause, tighten into a squeeze.

"Do you trust me?" Another barely exhaled sentence, and Solarion would have thought he misheard if Rook hadn't breathed it right into his ear.

"What? _Of course_ I do," Solarion hisses back, can't help but be a little offended. No matter what Rook might be thinking right now, or in general, the only person he literally trusts here _is Rook_.

Despite that declaration, Solarion almost jerks back sharply enough to unbalance him backwards when his vision is cut off by the blindfold Rook got from... somewhere? Are there tools around this platform he just hasn't noticed? It's made of leather, and soft enough it feels more like a caress where it's pressing against his face rather than a restriction, broad enough it covers his whole forehead and down over his cheekbones, covering the base of his ears as well before the straps start. It doesn't really muffle the mumble of amused laughter that spills up, but now, even as he tries to look around, there's nothing but complete and solid darkness.

Rook's hands cradling his face makes Solarion jump, less because of reluctance and more from surprise, now, and the kiss feels strangely acute; he can feel Rook's tongue even before it's done more than brush past his lips and every nerve in his mouth lights up, commanding complete attention. When Rook finally pulls back, Solarion is breathless, hot, and surprised to realize even the noises around him has retreated, despite that with a lack of sight, shouldn't his hearing be compensating as well? What seems to have happened is he's prioritizing touch, instead.

"Let me take care of you." Rook's asking for permission is also practically begging for Solarion to allow him, and Solarion can hear the guilt underneath and he _hates it_. He likes it when Rook does what his proclamation suggests he wants to do now, but the guilt? That's new. Rook shouldn't feel guilty. It's not his fault Solarion went after him (even if, technically, it's his fault he had to, but that's neither here nor there), he has _nothing_ to feel guilty for. That's not something he can try to convince him of, again, though. Not now. Probably not until they can get out of here, honestly.

Swallowing heavily, Solarion's attention is almost snatched by a jeer, but Rook's hands are wandering his body in a way that might seem harsh, but the possessive firmness is as much a relief for the way it draws on Solarion's attention, as well as fans the hesitant arousal that had been unable to actually take root until now. Reflexively, he tries to look around, but the blindfold is heavy and tight against his eyes, enough so he can feel the way they move under the leather, and Rook's hand is back on his chin, holding his head still even if he hadn't actually (yet) been looking away.

"... Of course."

Still, despite that whispered acquiescing, Solarion almost jumps - right into the kiss - when Rook cradles his face again, more firmly than any of the touches so far, and the kiss that follows _almost_ has him moaning into Rook's mouth. It certainly leaves him panting, staring into nothing, and this time when Rook tries to push him back, down, Solarion goes. He can feel the metal of the catch that's holding the blindfold closed press against the back of his head, now, with his head pressed against a cushion. It's weirdly reassuring, but the thought is fleeting as Rook descends - startling him again, his pulse jumping under Rook's lips - to slowly and lovingly work a bruise against his arched throat. 

It probably looks more violent than it really is, Solarion isn't sure since he can't _see_. All he has to go on is the decidedly bared snarl he can feel pulling on Rook's lips, making them thinner where they're pressed against him than they usually are when Rook's kissing him (or talking, or going down on him - anything at all, really), and there's quite a bit of teeth. Every scrape and nip makes Solarion shudder and twist, and when Rook moves on to his earlobe, Solarion would be making noise if he wasn't still aware of the drow around them.

The sensation of attention on him isn't as sharp or alarming now as it was before, though. There's no pressing stares that nearly feel physical, and the murmur of voices, as long as Rook doesn't pause, has turned into a fuzzy hum in his ears. Indistinct, unimportant.

"Ah--!"

He does hear the laughter his startled cry stirs when Rook's hand unexpectedly close around his erection, the touch feeling like a thunder strike all through his spine, even making his fingers twitch and his toes curl, from such a simple thing. It doesn't _stay_ simple, and Solarion swears he's staring into flickering flashes of colour as the hand - seemingly rough, but the grip is surprisingly kind against the force used, and there's tiny, feathery brushes of soft fingertips against the more sensitive spots along his length, his balls being half cupped in teasing caresses. The orgasm is quick, and Solarion is silent as he's practically punched with it, freezing in a startled arch.

The noise around him doesn't matter.

He'll be embarrassed about this later, about the mess staining his stomach, sticking to the gauzy spider silk that drapes his hips and down his legs in a sort of half skirt, knowing there were so many to see said mess. Right now, all he can pay attention to when he can't see anything but the faintly warm-tinged darkness of the inside of his eyelids or the rainbow flickers against the solid blackness when he tries to open them against the blindfold, is Rook's hands stroking his thighs, squeezing half-moons into his skin. The shock of hot and wet tongue and lips against his navel, Rook working another hickey right there.

Rook goes from here to kissing down his hip bone, around the mess Solarion has made. It's a pause that's long enough that when Rook brushes down past Solarion's balls to press against his entrance, Solarion's flinch is only from surprise of not having known where he was going to touch next, not from overstimulated sensitivity. His fingers are slick, at least. Solarion had admittedly been vaguely worried this would really _hurt_, that that would be the actual point aside from the humiliation, that Rook wouldn't get to even try to ease the way.

Apparently not, though for someone else the brief slide of fingers inside of him would doubtfully be enough. For Solarion, with Rook, he knows it will be enough. Still, this is when the first sign of hesitation comes from Rook; he flips Solarion over firmly enough, plasters himself against his back in a way that emphasizes where Solarion is on his knees and bent down over on his arms, but really just covers as much of Solarion as Rook _can_, given they are almost of a height. Trying to hide as much of him as possible from their audience.

"I'm sorry, I'm not---"

"I can handle it. I promise, kitten," Solarion says, making sure to use Elvish for the endearment and interrupting him before Rook can try to derail this, to pause long enough Solarion might start to pay attention to the noises around them - louder now, certainly saying nothing pleasant, he's sure - and not to what Rook's doing. He _is_ taking care of him, even if Rook probably feels he should be doing more, doing it _differently_. The not-quite-harsh but definitely rough hands commands Solarion's whole attention as well as his body, and for the first time since this started and when they _aren't_ alone in Rook's quarters, he doesn't mind the lack of control. And the thing is, no matter what Rook thinks, he _can_ handle what happens next.

Rook seats himself with one harsh thrust, but Solarion had been prepared for it. The press of the head of Rook's cock against him had given him the warning he needs to relax into it, even if it _does_ punch all the air out of his lungs and he's left shuddering, all the way down to his curling toes and fitfully clenching at the blankets and cushions in his grasp. Capable of quickly adjusting, used to Rook's size, still doesn't take away the fact that Rook _is_ impressively large, and he feels even more so inside of him when all Solarion has is the press of Rook, is his own flexing, stretched-wide muscles, is his singing, shocked nerves.

It's like he can feel Rook's cock in his _mouth_, and he muffles his moan against the cushion his face is pressed against.

It's almost funny that this whole thing probably looks more violent than it actually is. He's not sure how Rook manages it, but he _does_, and their audience could be howling for his blood by now and Solarion wouldn't have a clue. He'll probably be mortified later by how easy it was to distract him, but right now the blindfold serves a vital function, forcing Solarion to focus on feeling instead of their surroundings, and right now he's deeply grateful for it.

Rook's thrusts are deep, rocking him with every slam in, and Solarion has no idea what that looks like to anyone else, but all he can do is slide his knees a little wider and ride it. He comes quicker than he has at any point since he was brought in front of Elerra, and while he gasps into the cushions as Rook finishes, he just hopes---

Rook's hands in his hair are slow, the way he undoes the catch even slower, and sick apprehension replaces the lingering buzz of his second orgasm. Rook knows what he's doing, though, because he replaces the blindfold with his hand while he pulls Solarion off the platform, and it gives Solarion enough time to bury his face in Rook's neck when they get back to Elerra's side and she puts that weird leash back on, the one which connects him and Rook together before the lead goes to her hand. Solarion's grateful for it, now. He has no idea what he'd do if they'd come here leashed (and kept) apart, if he'd been forced to immediately acknowledge all the drow in this room, acknowledge what he probably looks like.

Somehow, Rook keeps him distracted all the way through the rest of the party and back until he's naked and they're getting cleaned back in his quarters, and Solarion is deeply grateful for that, too.


End file.
